FSE

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{{Hey, Boss.}}

{{What did you do?}}

{{C'mon, man. Can't a guy say hi to his manager, after hours?}}

{{Cut the crap, Pablo.}}

{{You don't call me 'Boss' unless you need me to do something for you.}}

{{So, out with it.}}

{{Fuck. Sorry.}}

{{Truth is, I need some advice. Or, like, an ear}}

{{Or like, somebody to tell me I'm being an idiot or, whatever.}}

{{Pablo}}

{{I've got my glasses on}}

{{Talk to me}}

{{Okay. Thanks, Boss.}}

{{So, you know that gym, that's right across the street from the office?}}

At this time of night, most of the place was dim. Half the lights off, the row of TVs hanging from the roof all dark. The PA had long since ceased its feed of inoffensive top 40 jams from a decade and a half ago. One of the few employees on the night shift normally commandeered the system to play her privately curated collection of lo-fi, trap anthems and throat destroying death metal. Pablo didn't hear any of that. The shark had his earbuds clipped in, his own playlist serving to drown the hum of the treadmill, the blood rushing through his head, and his own breath, not to mention whatever was playing up above.

He had finally gotten back into something of a regular rhythm, able to run at a constant clip without needing to slow down for basically as long as the act of running held his attention. So far, it had been holding his attention for... he spared a glance down at the timer, on the console. Twenty-six minutes, four seconds. A few more, and he would reach what he now considered the bare minimum for a night's exercise. Keeping his breath deliberate, and his gaze forward, he buckled down for the remaining three minutes and change. At least, he did until he caught movement, out of the corner of his eye. From out of the locker rooms strode another member, one who Pablo hadn't seen come in.

It was a dragon. Even in the darkened space between ceiling lamps, the imperial shimmer of those green scales was apparent. He wore a black tank-top and shorts, with the kind of confidence one would normally wear a thousand-dollar suit. Not that that confidence wasn't earned; every inch of skin on display was already suitably muscled. He was, perhaps, old enough to have been the shark's father, but nothing but the crags of his headscales and well-developed horns gave that away. He did not bother to trim those sweeping protrusions, along the sides of his head. Instead, he wore them like a crown.

{{Hold up}}

{{You're telling me you ran into Al Frigori?}}

{{Yeah}}

{{Like, CEO of Draconic Solutions}}

{{Founder of the company}}

{{LITERALLY both of our boss}}

{{THAT Al Frigori?}}

{{Yup}}

{{Huh.}}

{{Would've thought he was one of those home-gym types.}}

{{Nope. Apparently, he told me he goes to that gym basically every other day.}}

{{Wait. You TALKED to him?}}

Pablo watched the dragon begin his set, in front of him. Pablo hadn't really planned to do that, but when you were stuck on a treadmill, with only one other person to look at, it was natural. It didn't hurt that the dragon had decided to go for the chest fly machine directly across from him. And take his time setting the machine to an amount of weight that made Pablo wince. The shark continued to focus on his pace, even as his eyes wandered, taking in every flex of those well-developed muscles as the dragon pulled his arms forward, held, and then back. Forward, hold, back. Forward...

Before he was really aware of it, Pablo found himself looking down at his timer and realizing he was a minute and a half over thirty. Flinching, he turned the speed controls down to a jog, then a walk, before slowly grinding to a halt. He took a step off of the treadmill, taking a moment to soak in that vague sense of jelly-legged awkwardness that comes with suddenly stopping after a long run.

From across the room, he heard the dragon laugh. "Heh. You good, kid?"

Pablo chuckled back, as he grabbed his towel from off of the console and began to dab his face. "Yup. I know I'm supposed to cool down, but nobody's got time for that."

"Plenty of time to rest, when you're dead, eh?"

"Yeah. You're getting it." Ambling over to the machine two spots over, Pablo began to fiddle around with the weight selector. "What's life without a little risk?"

"Bullshit," the dragon quipped, between grunts of exertion, "that's what it is."

As Pablo bent over, weighing the pros and cons of adding an extra plate or two, for his audience, he was vaguely aware of the dragon's eyes, on his body. Almost subconsciously, he lowered his tail, in order to cover his toned rear. The dragon chuckled, at that, but when Pablo turned to sit, he found that they had put all of their attention back to their set.

{{Just gym talk.}}

{{Gym talk?}}

{{Yeah, you know. The kinda talk you do at the gym.}}

{{Gym talk.}}

{{So, does he know you work for him?}}

{{Don't think so. Haven't even given each other names.}}

{{That feels off.}}

{{What are you talking about? You don't give out your name to everybody you gym talk with.}}

{{You'd know that, if you worked out, more.}}

{{Wow. Okay}}

{{I'm working on it}}

{{Fuck you}}

{{Lmao relax, Boss.}}

{{I'm fucking with you}}

{{Can we get to the point where you need me to call you an idiot?}}

{{I'd really like to get to the point where I'm justified calling you an idiot. :l}}

{{Right, right. So, we've been working out together, for a few days, now...}}

"Come on, man. Push!"

Al looked up at Pablo, levelly, as his arms mechanically worked to lift and lower the barbell against his chest. "You know..." he puffed, between deliberate breaths, "...I needed a spotter... not... a cheerleader."

Pablo grinned, pumping his fist. "Well, that's just tough, dude, because you're getting both. Five more, come on! Four more!"

Al laughed, a concussive wheeze just barely timed to his regular exhale. With the last of his breath, he muttered "Yeah, you're lucky you're..."

"What's that?"

"I said, 'that's twenty.'"

"O-oh. Right." Bending over, Pablo put his hands on the bar and helped the dragon pull it up into the bracket. "Good work, man. That's the last set, right?"

"Yeah," Al growled, making a back-of-the throat noise as he pulled himself to a sitting position, on the bench. "For now, at least. Still gotta hit the triceps, before I pack it in."

Pablo held out a water bottle. "Another arm day?"

"Damn straight. I'm hoping to have to get my suits refitted, in a few weeks. Let it out around the shoulders, you know? Get that silhouette going."

"Yeah? It'd probably help if you got some cardio in. You could trim that belly you got, while you're at it."

The dragon glared, from behind the water bottle he had pulled to his lips, before responding. "Easy there, kid. You know, I hardly ever see you on anything other than the treadmill or bike."

Pablo shrugged. "What can I say? We both got bodies we're going for, I guess."

{{He kinda laughed at that, I remember.}}

{{Look, I'm sorry, but is any of this important?}}

{{I'm failing to understand what you're texting me, about.}}

{{???}}

{{Like, whatever. You met the boss at the gym, he seems like an alright guy}}

{{And now you two are gym buddies.}}

{{It's not like anything inappropriate is happening, per se.}}

{{Yeah...}}

{{Fuck}}

{{Pablo?}}

{{Pablo, I can see you typing. You've been stopping and starting for like five minutes.}}

{{Pablo, it's me. You can talk to me.}}

{{Right. Sorry, it's just been a bit.}}

{{Right}}

{{I am going to ask you one thing. As your manager.}}

{{Ok}}

{{Did Frigori do or say anything to you that is (or that you would consider to be) a violation of company policy?}}

The walls shook, almost imperceptibly, from the bass-heavy tones of the EDM music that had come up on the employee's shuffle. Any other details were lost in the snaking corridors, that led to the shower rooms. Pablo stood under a stream of spotty, but suitably warm water. He sighed, taking in the relative silence as the water rolled over his toned body. His body ached; the past few days, he had found himself adding more and more time to his workouts, and it was starting to catch up with him. He didn't regret it. At least, not until he had to get up, in the morning.

Suddenly, he once again had that feeling of eyes, on him. Pablo turned his head, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Al. Or at least, he could see the dragon's silhouette. The lights from the room behind them outlined the dark green scales of Al's body. From that, the shark could easily tell that Al had gotten out of his workout clothes, entirely. Not that Al seemed to mind. The way he leaned one shoulder against the wall, blocking the light with his large, well-built body...

Pablo took an interest in the wall, in front of him. "What's up?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Nothing," Al replied. "This is the only set of showers with any water pressure, half the time."

"Oh. Yeah, sorry. Did you want me to give you the room, or...?"

The sound of talons rapping against linoleum broke Pablo's concentration. Almost before he could turn back to check, Al had made his way across the room, took up the spot in front of the shower-head next to Pablo, and turned the handle. The young shark felt his heart-rate spike, as he tried to focus on washing the sweat and grime off of himself. He tried to keep his eyes away from his neighbor, away from those thick arms as they roved over every inch of the muscles that writhed and flexed beneath those scales. He tried to avoid the strip of lighter-green, on Al's chest and stomach, leading down to between his legs, where the bump of the dragon's genital slit...

"Like what you see, kid?"

Pablo nearly jumped out of his scales, as he looked up into Al's eyes. "What? N-no, that's... I don't..." His words stumbled to an ungainly stop. The music died down, leaving nothing but the rush of water and the silent, predatory grin of the dragon's face, above his. Pablo chuckled, nervously. "Sorry, dude. Don't know where my eyes were going."

"Hey, no shame," Al laughed, as he put a hand against the wall and leaned forward. "You think I put all this work into this body, so that people couldn't look at it?"

Pablo shrugged. "Fair enough. In that case... yeah, man. Your regimen definitely looks like it's paying off."

"You're not looking too bad, yourself."

Pablo flinched, as his eyes alternated between the shower wall and catching Al's gaze. He laughed, as one does when really unsure about how to respond. "Nah, quit fooling around, dude. All I've done is trim up."

"That ain't true. You ask me, you've been bulking in all the right places. Although..."

"Although?" Pablo waited for the dragon to continue. He was just about to prompt Al again, when he felt a pressure against the base of his spine that sent a thrill through him. He looked down, to see a heavy hand wrapped around the top of his muscled tail.

Al smirked, but otherwise pretended everything was normal. "Although," he continued, "I can't help but notice you've got this thing in the way of your glutes."

Pablo swallowed. "That's just how it normally sits."

"Shame." Slowly, Al's hand slid down and around Pablo's tail, before coming back and hitching against the underside. "It's covering up the bits you've worked the hardest on. Come on, buddy, give me a lift, will you?" Before he even really recognized that he was doing it, Pablo lifted his tail. Al whistled, and Pablo watched as the dragon angled his head to better bore into the shark's cheeks.

"That good, huh?" Pablo ventured.

Al laughed. "You kidding? I know a lot of folks who'd kill for an ass like yours. Or, at least to get an ass like yours bent over their mattress."

"Really?" Pablo's heart began to race. Without thinking, he blurted out "That include you, or...?"

The two made eye contact. For a brief moment, Pablo thought he had said something wrong. That is, until he saw the way Al's eyes smoldered, saw the little bit of wet green flesh just starting to poke out from between the dragon's legs. And, of course, before he felt that hand trail down and claim his ass-cheek in those warm, strong fingers. Pablo tried to stop the surprised moan that bubbled up to his lips, but in the process it came out more as a desperate squeak. Al's face got close. Dangerously close. Pablo could feel the heat from the dragon's breath as it came in increasingly heavier, huskier pants. As his muzzle trailed over to Pablo's ear, he let out one more puff of air, before muttering "I've definitely had worse asses, on my bed."

Suddenly, there was a chime, as the PA rang out for an announcement. "Hey, uh, good evening and junk," said the voice of a bored and incredibly tired sounding lady. "To the, like, three people still hanging out here, we're gonna be closing up for maintenance in, like, fifteen minutes? Like, seventeen and change, whatever. Please finish up your business and get ready to head out. 'Kay, thanks, guys." With that, there was a click of a receiver halfheartedly returned to its cradle, and silence.

Above him, Al sighed heavily. "Well, that's some shit timing." Pulling away, he shut off his water and gave one last stretch before turning for the door. "Ah, well. Better get going, before she has to come in, for us."

"Y-yeah," Pablo said, turning his body to try to hide the pair of erections that had half worked their way out of his own slit. "I'm right behind you."

Al opened his mouth, a clear rejoinder on his lips, but shook his head. Striding out into the locker rooms, he waved back and shouted. "That's a standing offer, by the way! See you around, next time!"

Now alone, Pablo placed a hand on the shower tap. He took a deep breath, in through his nose, exhaled, and then said to himself. "Okay... that's... wow..."

{{Fuck}}

{{Of fucking course}}

{{Why can't I be wrong about these things?}}

{{That was a few days ago}}

{{Has he done anything else?}}

{{We've showered together a few more times, but he hasn't touched me}}

{{Just... watched}}

{{GOD}}

{{Okay. Fuck. Sorry.}}

{{Serious situation. I'm being completely serious.}}

{{Okay, so first things first. You need to get out.}}

{{Like, yesterday}}

{{I mean... is it really that bad, tho?}}

{{What}}

{{I'm just saying, he doesn't seem to know I work for him}}

{{And, you know}}

{{Look, I'm not gonna lie. Dude is built like a marble statue}}

{{Pablo}}

{{Are you in a public place, right now?}}

{{No?}}

::INCOMING CALL::

Roger

Pablo pressed the answer button and put the phone up to his ear. He barely had time to say "hello" before the voice on the other end began to speak.

"Pablo, you need to listen to me closely. You are in a very bad situation, right now. I'm going to try and get a report into HR, try and keep this quiet, but you need to stay away. Stop going to that gym. Cancel your membership."

Pablo raised an eyebrow. "Hey, come on. That seems a bit extreme."

"It's necessary," the voice insisted. "Fucking around with your boss introduces a million different problems, and almost all of them are gonna be yours. Best case scenario? The moment he finds out you're an employee of his, you're fired."

"Seriously?" Pablo laughed. "What's the worst case, then?"

"Worst case scenario is that he already knows, and that he's exactly the kind of guy who gets off on the power exchange of fucking his employees."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Right." Pablo took a moment to look around the parking lot, he was standing in. "Guess I didn't think about that."

A crackling sigh puffed through, on the other end of the line, before the voice continued. "Listen, man. You're not in trouble. We just gotta get ahead of this, and we'll be good. In the meantime, keep your head down and your pants on."

"Yeah," Pablo said, distractedly, as a figure began to approach him. "Listen, Boss, I gotta go."

"That's fine. I got paperwork to file, anyway. Take care of yourself."

"Yup."

Al shouldered his gym bag, smirking as Pablo hung up and pocketed his phone. "Who was that?" asked the dragon.

"That was... a coworker," Pablo replied, uneasily. "Calling to tell me about paperwork, or something. You know how it is."

"All too well." Al patted Pablo on the shoulder, before walking past him. "Come on. You wanted a lift home, right?"

"Actually..." Pablo took a half a step towards the street, his mouth open to try and ad-lib some kind of excuse. Despite that, however, his eyes kept roving up and down the dragon's body. Unbidden, the memories of the shower room came back to him, causing a stir in his nethers.

Al looked up, from the door of a car that, no doubt, would have cost a couple of years of Pablo's salary. His eyebrow raised. "You good?"

Pablo started, then chuckled. "Yeah, it's cool. I just don't really wanna cost you the gas, you know?"

"Oh, don't worry about that." Al opened the driver's side door, showing teeth as he grinned. "I'm sure you'll find a way to pay me back."

As the dragon climbed into his car, Pablo bit his lip. He would have to be willfully ignorant to pretend like he wouldn't know what would happen, the moment he put himself in the passenger's seat. He spared one last glance back to the street. The bus stop was just a minute's walk away.

Just go, he told himself.

It's for your own good.

Don't think about your boss's sexy body, or the fact that he totally wants to bend you over and...

He almost flinched, when he saw the car door swing shut, in front of him. He stared down at his hand, on the handle, felt the seat against his back. Dumbly, he turned his head to look at the driver's side seat.

Al drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "You're gonna need to get the seatbelt on."

Pablo swallowed. "R-right."

A few moments later, they were rolling out onto the road. Pablo watched the street go by, faster and faster, as they turned onto the highway. His heart hammered in his chest. The ride was uniquely silent, the rumble of engine and road barely audible inside the car. The faintest smell of aftershave and cologne lay infused in the seats, evidence of countless mid-trip morning preparations. The yellow-orange glare of passing streetlights filled the cabin with swiftly pulsing light.

"Where'm I headed," Al asked, "Old Town, Bay Market, what?"

"Oh." Pablo paused, momentarily forgetting his own neighborhood. "O-Old Town. Down by the 8th Street Park, if you know where that is."

"Yup." The car was silent for a little while, after that. Pablo didn't take his eyes from the passenger side window, but his ear turned when Al spoke again. "You're looking a little skittish."

"What?" Pablo replied, before processing the sentence completely. Then, he said "I'm fine. Just, uh... just a bit distracted."

"Sure you're not having second thoughts?"

Pablo didn't respond to that.

Al sighed. "You're good, man. I get it. Different game, altogether, once it's actually about to go down."

Pablo blushed. "Sorry. Guess I look like a massive tease, right now."

"Hah!" The loud, staccato bark of a laugh from the dragon made Pablo almost jump out of his seat. Seeing that, Al modulated his mirth down to a respectable chuckle. "Trust me. You are far from the worst tease I've dealt with. Just ask my ex-wife."

Pablo chuckled back, half-politely, though he managed to find the courage to turn around and face Al. "I dunno, I guess you can just be a little... intimidating, that's all."

Al didn't take his eyes off the road, as he spoke. "I figured you were into that."

"I, uh..." Pablo scratched the back of his head, awkwardly. "I mean, I kinda am, but..."

The conversation trailed off, again. Al's eyes narrowed, as he overtook another car, on the road and simultaneously weighed some option or other in his head. Eventually, he nodded to himself. "Well, the way I see it, there's two ways this night could shake out. First way: nothing happens. I ain't gonna force you into nothing you don't want. You get dropped off, and we see each other at the gym like nothing ever happened."

"And the second way?"

Al's right hand drifted off of the steering wheel, where it came down to rest on Pablo's knee. The shark's breath caught in his throat, as large, strong fingers slid up his leg, hiking up the fabric of his shorts as they brushed against his rough skin. All the while, Al spoke, his voice a husky rumble. "Second way," he said, "is that we throw you in the deep end."

Pablo tried to respond. No words were forthcoming. It didn't help that Al decided to screw with his concentration further, when his hand trailed up to grab at the swiftly tightening knot of fabric that his shorts were making between his legs. Al never took his eyes off the road, keeping the car on the road with one hand despite the hunger in his eyes and the growing bulge in his own pants. Again, Pablo felt his teeth pressing against his lower lip, as the words finally came to him:

"Wh-what's life without a little risk, huh?"

His body acted almost on autopilot. Reaching to his side, he undid his seat-belt. Al lifted his arm, which allowed Pablo to slip in between the dragon's body and the steering wheel. Soon, he was laying against the center console, his head and shoulders draped over his boss's legs. Al returned both hands to the steering wheel, with only the most subtle shift of the hips acknowledging his passenger as Pablo worked to undo the button and fly of the dragon's pants.

Al's erection strained with such intensity, Pablo almost imagined he could hear the fabric protest. With how awkward the angle was, it was all he could do to get the pants open enough for him to reach a hand inside, where he was greeted with the blissful, pulsing warmth of a male. With a few deft twists of his fingers, he managed to snake into Al's boxers, wrap around something hot and leathery, and pull it into the open air. His breath caught in his throat, as he took it in. The dragon's cock was a thing of beauty, a throbbing mass of apple-green, ridged and tapered flesh that, even now, glistened with the first pearl of desire. An errant bump caused Pablo's snout to brush against it, where he was greeted with heat and the tangy smell of sweat and sex. He licked his lips, as he leaned further forward.

Above, Al accelerated the car to overtake some van that had the nerve to only be going ten over the speed limit. His focus on the road was unbroken, even when the questing fingers around his cock began to be joined by the languid, greedy lashes of a tongue. Nothing but the slightest tightening of the facial muscles, the flaring of the nostrils, and the subvocal growl at the back of his throat betrayed what was happening, below the dashboard.

Pablo's eyes rolled, in his head, as he caught the first drip of precum on his tongue. He began to quest upward, resting the edge of his upper lip against Al's tapered tip as he continued to lavish the underside. The heat from the dragon's member was palpable, even out to Pablo's cheeks. The whole thing had a texture to it like he had never felt with his own member. It was... not rough, per se. Hard. It felt similar to the calloused hands of a workman, though slicker and warmer. Pablo felt a thrill of confidence run through him. Unlike some of the partners he had had, this one might actually be safe to...

A sudden lurch to the front of the car broke his concentration. Slowly, he realized that the vehicle had come to a stop. "What?" He lifted his head. "What's happ...?"

Al put a meaty hand down on top of his head, glaring at him from his seat. "Nothing for you to worry about, pup," the dragon rasped. "Just get your head back down there."

Pablo felt his heart rate spike. "Y-yes, sir," he gasped. Leaning down, he gave the tip of the dragon's cock a kiss, before continuing to fondle and slather it in saliva.

Al chuckled. "That was a good look you gave me. Did I say the magic words, or something?"

"Mm-hmm," Pablo whimpered, perhaps a bit too desperately.

"So you're one of those types, eh?" Al scraped his fingers across Pablo's scalp, as the shark's head bobbed up and down. "Shoulda figured. The way you've been building that ass of yours, it's clear what you want." Slowly, that hand slid down to Pablo's neck, then his shoulders, down to his back, and finally sliding into the band of his shorts to tickle the base of his tail and ass. "You're just a little pillow-biter, aren't you...pup?"

Pablo tried to respond in the affirmative, but he was hard pressed to do so. Instead, he merely whimpered against Al's manhood, pressing his ass back against the dragon's hand as his own trapped erections ground against the center console.

Al met Pablo's eyes, as his predatory humor slowly gave way to something much more predatory. "Well? Are you gonna just spend all night making out with it, or are you gonna stop being such a goddamn tease?"

Pablo was about to respond with a coy "Maybe," but either the glint in his eyes gave it away, before he could speak, or Al was getting impatient. The dragon growled, tightening his grip on Pablo's head. With a nervous, but excited squeak, the shark lowered his snout, took a couple of final licks of that hot green pole, and then finally closed his lips around it.

For what felt simultaneously like an eternity, and also not long enough, Pablo's world was in his boss's lap. Every second or third careful pass of his tongue brought a squirt of something salty and potent. His nostrils danced with the smell of sweat and spunk and throwaway gym shower soap. The hand on his head was like an iron weight, keeping him down where he belonged. Not that he needed the restriction. Under Pablo's chest and arm, under the thin layer of his jeans, Al flexed and fidgeted, in his seat. Pablo felt the muscles work, marveled at the power. He imagined how those thighs would look, throwing their weight into him, properly.

Meanwhile, the dragon rumbled down at him, his voice a heady combination of playful and sincere aggression. "That's it, you little slut," he growled. "Oh, you have no idea... I've wanted to see you between my legs, ever since I laid eyes on your little twink butt." Slowly, the pressure on Pablo's head increased, as Al pushed him further down. "Fuck. Fuuuuck, take it..."

Pablo felt one of his teeth press against cock-flesh. A momentary flash of concern broke his concentration, and he tried to pull up, in order to get a better angle, but the hand against him kept him in place. Pablo tried to moan out a warning.

Al only pressed down harder. "Heh. You think I'm afraid of you getting... nngh... a bit toothy? No complaints, pup. You're not getting off of me until I tell you to."

"Mmmph!" Pablo protested.

"I said..." Al gasped, his voice coming out in ragged puffs, "...I said no complaints. J-just relax. You're gonna get your reward... soon..."

Pablo's eyes screwed shut, even as his cocks began to drool out onto the seat. Steeling himself, he redoubled his sucking, curling his lips as his head bobbed up and down. He tried to introduce a twist or two, until he felt Al's cock bump against his sharp teeth, again. The dragon's breath hitched, a fresh dollop of pre tumbling out onto the shark's tongue. Was... was Al getting off on the danger of the shark's teeth? He had to be. The way he was trying to steer Pablo's head, it's almost like the dragon wanted to feel that light brush of point against his tough, leathery member. Of course, once Pablo felt the dragon's control over his head falter, felt the cock jump in his mouth once, twice, three times, he knew was was coming.

Pablo looked up into his boss's eyes, whining, as he ground his hips against the seat.

Al snarled, breath punching out of his nostrils hard enough for Pablo to feel it, all the way down where he lay. "Hah... hhhh_aaaahhh..._!" Suddenly, the dragon pressed down, hard, on Pablo's head, driving his hips up in the same motion. "Grrrrrrrrrrrhhhh!"

Pablo's eyes widened, as spurt after spurt of thick dragon cum began to paint the inside of his mouth. Al's red-hot member writhed in his mouth like a wounded snake, every pulse bringing with it another helping of potent, salty essence. Pablo had been unprepared, and out of practice; it was all he could do to swallow to try and keep up with the veritable torrent that bubbled up at him. After the fourth wave, he was already starting to lose some, as it spilled out from between lip and cock and began to bleed out onto the dragon's jeans.

Eventually, like a storm, the dragon's orgasm passed as quickly as it had come. Leaning back in his seat, Al moved his hand to under Pablo's chin, carefully lifting the shark up off of his lap. He chuckled, huskily. "That's a good look on ya, pup."

Pablo didn't respond, right away, because he was too busy trying to get the last of the dragon's cum down his throat.

Al didn't seem to mind. Instead, he drew Pablo's attention to the streaks of cum and saliva that covered his slowly receding cock. "Can't help but notice you left a mess, though." Quickly, he looked up, scanning the area out the car's windows. "You're lucky we're pressed for time, but next time I expect you to clean up after yourself."

"Y-yes, sir," Pablo purred.

"Oh, kid..." Al shook his head. "You can just go ahead and call me Boss. I know you want to."

Pablo stared up at the dragon, dumbly. "I'm sorry?"

"You know, Boss. Like what you called me when we talked at the Christmas party, last year."

Pablo felt his blood freeze. "You... you know about...?"

Al cackled, at that. "Look at you, acting all coy and virginal. You think I don't remember my employees by sight? Well, I do. Especially when said employees spend half their time eye-fucking me."

Slowly, Pablo got up to sit in the seat properly. He looked out the window. They were outside his apartment.

Once his member had retreated fully into its sheath, Al began to zip up his pants. "Relax, pup. You've done good. Keep playing your cards, the way you're playing them, and I'll be glad to give you more of what you want."

Pablo didn't respond, but the nervousness in his eyes was clearly betrayed by the throbbing between his legs. Eventually, he nodded. "Right. Well, I guess... this is my stop. Thanks for the lift, Mister Frigori."

"Likewise," Al replied, with a chuckle. The dragon watched his employee open the door and climb out. As Pablo closed the door, he opened the window to call after him. "Oh, and Pablo?"

Pablo stopped in his tracks, turning around and leaning over to look back into the car. "Yes... Boss?"

Al smirked. "I'll see you at the office."

With that, Al backed the car out of the space. Pablo stood there, clutching his gym bag to his chest as he watched his boss's headlights disappear into the night.