[SS-1706] Flexed, Cuffed

FLEXED, CUFFED

The cop was on park duty for the cruisers again. Same orders. Same bad corner of the city. Catch the guys who loiter. Catch the ones who smile too long. Catch the ones who treat the bathroom like some private stage.

He hated the job.

Then he saw him.

The man was inside the public bathroom, standing in front of the mirror in bright yellow briefs, flexing like he was on a stage and not in a dirty park restroom with wet tiles and bad lighting. Big chest. Thick arms. Tight waist. The kind of body that made a uniform look small just by standing near it.

The cop stopped in the doorway.

The man turned and smiled like he'd been waiting.

"Like what you see, officer?"

The cop stiffened. "Hands where I can see them."

The man laughed once, low and easy. "They're right here."

He flexed again, slow, proud, almost showing off on purpose. The mirror caught everything — shoulders, abs, legs, the hard outline under the briefs. The cop's throat went dry and he hated that it happened.

"You know why I'm here," he said.

"Yeah," the man said. "You want to ruin my night."

The cop stepped in and grabbed him by the wrist. The man didn't fight much. He leaned in close instead, close enough that the cop could smell soap and sweat and something warm underneath. It pissed him off. It also did worse things.

"Turn around."

The man did, still smirking.

The cuffs clicked around his wrists.

"Damn," the man muttered. "You do it rough."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

The cop had him by the arm when they walked out. The man's body kept brushing his side, deliberate and slow. Not resisting. Not innocent either. He kept talking, voice low and rough with that same stupid confidence.

"You always stare like that?" he asked.

"No."

"Liar."

In the back of the patrol car, the city lights slid over the windows. The man turned as far as the cuffs allowed and looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

"You're not as cold as you pretend," he said.

The cop kept his hands on the wheel. "You're under arrest."

The man smiled. "Sure."

Then, softer, "You brought me in because you wanted to."

The cop pulled into a dark alley, killing the engine. The sudden silence was thick. He turned in his seat, the vinyl groaning.

"Maybe," the cop said, his voice rough. "But I can still make this disappear."

The exhibitionist's eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Is that so?"

"Get out."

The man slid out of the car, the cop following. He unlocked the cuffs, letting them fall to the pavement with a metallic clatter.

"On your knees," the cop commanded, his hand resting on his belt.

The man sank down without hesitation, looking up with that same infuriating smirk. "Freedom has a price, huh?"

The cop unzipped his pants, pulling out his already hard cock. "Pay it."

The exhibitionist didn't need another invitation. He leaned forward, taking the cop into his mouth with practiced ease. The cop groaned, fingers tangling in the man's hair as he worked him with his tongue and throat. The wet sounds filled the alley, mingling with distant traffic.

The cop's hips bucked, fucking the man's face with increasing urgency. "That's it," he growled. "Take it all."

When he came, it was with a shudder and a muffled curse. The exhibitionist swallowed every drop, then pulled back with a smug grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Consider my debt paid," he said, standing up.

The cop zipped himself up, breathing heavily. "Get out of here before I change my mind."

As the man walked away, the cop watched him go.

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