(Hey guys! This is a VERY strange yaoi fluff thing! This time, I'm attacking none other than the Freelance Police! *gasp* I hope you enjoy anyways!)
One night around midnight, Sam and Max were hanging around their office with nothing to do. No one had been committing crimes in weeks, so business was slow.
Sam, who had a rather thick five o' clock shadow, was leaning back in his office chair and snacking on Fudgey Freezes. He was looking out the window, seeing all of the happy people walking around like ants on the streets below. They were all peaceful and friendly, which made the canine cop feel depressed. He wanted to fight some crime, for God's sake.
His partner Max was tearing apart Barbie dolls limb from limb. He took the Barbie body parts and taped them to other stuff to create crazy looking monsters. He would use the weird monster dolls to scare Jimmy Two-Teeth and his rat family, who lived in a tiny rat hole in their office.
"Jimmy isn't here today, Max," Sam suddenly said with a mouthful of ice-cream, "He and his family left on a fabulous cruise to the Bahamas for the weekend."
Max said in confusion, "A cruise? How the hell were they able to afford something as expensive and wondrous when they've never worked a day in their pathetic lives?"
"They didn't pay for it. They sneaked aboard, and they're taking the trip as stowaways." Sam shoved another Fudgey Freeze bar down his throat, making sounds of pleasure and licking his lips.
Max put down his crazy creatures and jumped on top of Sam's desk. "How many of those chocolate bars have you had this gloomy afternoon, Sam? You know those calorie-infused popsicles of death go straight to your hips!"
"Perhaps you're right, my furry friend," Sam said as he stood up, brushing pizza crumbs and chewed-up popsicle sticks off his torso, "Besides, it's time for me to wash up. I'm sticky with chocolate, and I haven't shaved in days!"
"Okey-dokey!" said Max, "I'll stay right here in this very spot, and will NOT invade your personal space or try to peep at you during your bath! Because that'd be weird!"
"Thanks, little buddy!" Sam left the office and went across the hall to the bathroom.
After hearing the door close, Max, with an evil grin on his face, sneaked out of the office and crept up to the bathroom door. He opened it up a bit and peeked through the crack. He could see Sam, who had already removed his shirt, shaving off his beard stubble. Max couldn't help but stare at his bare-chested flab.
Max had been stalking Sam during his baths for about a month now. He had finally hit puberty, and his sexual needs have gotten the best of him. Sam, fortunately, hadn't noticed. Max was embarrassed about his sexuality enough. He didn't need his best friend in the whole world to think he was gross or a freak.
When Sam was finished shaving, he rinsed off his razor and set it down on the cracked sink with the broken mirror. He started to wriggle off his trousers until nothing was left except his boxers. He went over to the worn-out bathtub and turned on the faucets, filling up the leaky tub with warm, refreshing water.
Max's heart was beating fast as he intently watched Sam side off his boxer shorts and toss them aside. He got in the tub and laid back in the water. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling to soak, sighing with relief.
After a few minutes, Sam got a scrubber brush and began washing his back. The way his arm muscles flexed as he moved it up and down drove Max wild. He wanted those large, muscular arms to hold him close to his warm body. To throw him at things. To help him move large objects, such as a large gasoline truck, if they were to ever run over his head.
Sam opened a bottle of shampoo and poured the white stuff into his palm. He started rubbing and scrubbing the substance into his fur. Every inch of his caramel brown fur was turning white with suds.
Max could handle it no more. He was about to explode. He hurried back to the office and sat on the worn-out couch and waited for Sam to get finished, acting as if he had not just acted like a complete pervert.
Ten minutes later, Sam walked back into the office wearing a black bathrobe. He was growling and struggling to get it to fit. "I can't get this damned thing to tie around my waist!" he yelled out, trying to tie the belt around himself.
"Perhaps this period of inactivity has only enforced your laziness and unusual eating habits," Max implied.
"Well, if that's the case, let's hope we start getting some criminals to bust up soon," said Sam, "This city-wide peace can't last forever. Nothing good ever lasts in this country."
"Not since I became President, Sam!" Max proudly stated, pointing to himself.
"Right you are, little pal." Sam started to yawn and stretch his arms up over his head. After scratching his ass, he said, "Well, I think I'm gonna hit the hay. I'll see you in the morning for another day of idling!"
"I'll be there is a few minutes to tuck you in, little Sammie!" Max teased.
"You crack me up, little buddy," Sam chuckled as he left the office. He went down the hall of the broken-down apartment building and entered room 113.
Meanwhile, Max was too busy thinking. It was a dangerous pastime for him, with his crazy psychic brain and all. He began to think about how he had been peeping at nude Sam all month. Was it wrong? What would Sam think? Should he keep doing it? What was he thinking? Why was he doing this?
He wanted to SO badly. Normally, Max wasn't one to regret anything he did, but Sam was his best friend. He felt guilty about using him to satisfy his dirty little mind. He wanted to peep, but he wondered if he should anymore.
The next morning, Sam was dressed in his suit again. He was sitting in his desk chair and reading a book called And I Don't Want To Live This Life by Deborah Spungen. The story made his eyes water and his heart melt.
"This is the most heartbreaking book I've ever read," Sam cried as he wiped a tear from his eye, "How could they say that Nancy's condition was her mother's fault?!"
Usually, Max would come up with some witty, sarcastic remark. But he was sitting on the edge of Sam's desk, looking down at his feet and avoiding eye contact with his partner.
Sam took notice of this almost immediately. Max was supposed to be full of carbonated energy! He put a bookmark in his place, set down the 3 pound book, and walked over to Max's side. He put a furry mitt on his shoulder and said, "You okay, little buddy?"
Max turned his head, not wanting to face his friend. He held back tears as Sam shook him and continuingly tried to receive his attention. Finally, after a few minutes, he whimpered, "I can't tell you, Sam. You'll think I'm a freak."
"You're already pretty freaky, I must admit," Sam muttered, "But you're my best friend. I won't think of you any differently than I previously do because of some dirty little secret! Now come on. Just tell me."
Max looked up at Sam with big, shiny, puppy-dog eyes. "Really?!"
"Yes, really." Sam gave a comforting smile and ruffled Max's fur, making him slightly giggle.
Max sighed, "Well, I. . . I've been doing something so horrible and utterly disgusting for a while now to an anonymous person of no specific relation. That random person would most likely not approve of my actions. Should I confess?"
Sam rubbed his chin and pondered for a couple of seconds. He opened his mouth to speak, "Well, sure, I suppose. That person would probably appreciate hearing the truth."
"So. . . I should tell him?" After getting a nod from Sam as an answer, he hesitated at first, but jumped up to Sam and wrapped his arms around his neck, joining their lips together.
Sam's eyes went wide with both confusion and shock-ment. He stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall and his arm knocked over a lamp. He thought about prying the hyperkinetic rabbity thing away from his lips. He also thought, however, that Max was an excellent kisser.
He gave in to Max's fuzzy charms, and slowly slid down onto his bottom. He closed his eyes and gradually kissed back. Now that he was able to stand, Max became more aggressive and started using rabbit-tongue. Both of their tongues swirled around each other like drunk ballerinas.
Max separated the binding, however, and suddenly said, "By the way, I've been stalking you during your baths every night for the past month."
"Wha-" Sam was interrupted, for Max began kissing him again
But then, all of a sudden, there was a sound that they hadn't heard in what feels like an eternity: The phone rang. The Commissioner finally had a case for them. Normally, the two police detectives would race to answer it. This time, they let it ring. To Hell with the Commissioner!
The phone kept ringing louder and louder, and the noise was getting on the nerves of the newly-formed lovers. They decided to go somewhere quiet. Room 113.
Max was practically ripping off Sam's noir suit, eager to open its sexy contents. When he finally got off Sam's shirt, he started rubbing his tummy and scratching behind his ear. In response, Sam repeatedly kicked his right leg and panted with his tongue sticking out. This is how animals have sex, in case you didn't know.
"How do like that, Sam?" Max asked, almost out of breath, "Does it feel good?!"
Sam panted, "Oh, God yes! Oh, great day in the morning. . ."
Sam and Max fell flat on their backs and breathed heavily. They were sweating harder than Bosco in a boiler room. They were both half asleep when Sam suddenly muttered, "Hey. . . Max?"
"Yeah?"
". . . Don't ever peek at me while I'm naked. . . EVER again. . . Or this will be the last time."
Bluster Blaster: "THE END!"