Chapter Text
Ivan was not having a good start to his day.
Traffic was sparse, but he was running late, and the last thing he needed was a cop stopping him. Shit! he thought at the wail of the siren, pulling over with a jerk of the wheel. “Shit!” he hissed out loud as his tumbler toppled over and spilled hot coffee down the side of his leg. As his car crunched to a halt, he pulled up the handbrake and reached over to right his tumbler, cursing softly now in Russian.
A knock on the window, two sharp raps on the glass, startled him upright.
An officer stood outside and motioned with his hand for him to wind down the window, which he dutifully did. The officer leaned over, one hand holding onto the roof of his car whilst the other rested nonchalantly close to his holstered pistol. He smacked his gum loudly as he peered down at Ivan through his aviator shades.
“Do you know why I stopped you, sir?” he asked. He spoke with a long southern drawl, his voice low but betraying a surprising youth. Ivan hazarded that he could only be in his mid-20s at most.
“No, officer,” he replied truthfully. “What seems to be the problem?”
Despite himself, Ivan’s heart was skipping. He attempted to fix his face into one of mild bewilderment, but the sting of the hot coffee sticking to his pant leg twisted it into a grimace. The officer stared at him, his eyes hidden behind Ivan’s uncomfortable reflection.
“Licence and registration,” he drawled.
Ivan patted down his chest only to realise he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket. It lay slung over his briefcase in the front passenger seat. “Um,” he said, suddenly conscious of his hands which he placed purposefully on the wheel. “My wallet is in my jacket. Do I have permission to retrieve it, sir?”
There was a short pause as the officer stared at him, head slightly cocked to one side, as if considering whether Ivan was fucking with him or not. “I’ll grab it for ya,” he finally said, and without waiting for Ivan’s acquiescence he reached in.
Ivan leaned back in his seat, the leather groaning under his weight as the officer stuck in his blond head and all but clambered through the window, stretching towards the passenger seat. His heart was racing at the sudden invasion of his personal space. This close to him, he could smell the officer’s aftershave and the mint of his gum. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His eyes darted towards the name tag on the officer’s chest which read “Alfred F. Jones” – and, against his better judgement, he found himself transfixed to Alfred’s lightly tanned skin which peeked out from underneath his unfastened shirt collar.
“Spilled your coffee?” Alfred said with a pointed look at the puddled mess all over Ivan’s console, breaking the latter man out of his guilty reverie. There was a tinkling lightness to the officer’s tone even as he leered, his lips curling into a gummy snarl, revealing rows of even and startlingly white teeth.
Ivan let out a nervous laugh. “Yes sir,” he said, swallowing hard and hoping he hadn’t just been caught gawping.
The officer grabbed his jacket and backed out of the window. Ivan watched as the six-hundred-dollar Hugo Boss article was dropped onto the hood and dragged across the dust of the Nevadan desert as the officer rifled through his pockets. Gripping tight to the wheel, he wondered where he would have to go from here to get it dry cleaned.
Finally, the officer extracted his wallet. He unfolded it and flipped through its contents, leafing through multiple credit cards, a golf membership club card, an old outdated library card from a previous address… He stopped when he came across one of Ivan’s business cards.
“Ivan Braginski, aerospace consultant,” he mumbled. He looked towards Ivan. “You some kind of a rocket scientist, mister?”
Ivan nodded, smiling faintly.
“No shit!” Alfred exclaimed with undisguised delight, sounding even more youthful in his excitement. “Man, I always wanted to be an astronaut myself! Like, as a kid, y’know? Course, ya gotta be super smart in school to go to space and all.”
Ivan felt the tension was starting to melt between them, and he allowed himself to relax. “I merely consult in logistics and parts acquisition,” he said humbly.
“Huh? Well, shame to have to pull you over for your blinkers then,” the officer said. All trace of friendliness disappeared along with his toothy smile. He had found Ivan’s driving licence, and he unpocketed his ticket book and pen from his breast pocket. “You’d think a smart science guy like you would know how to, uh, acquire some working parts for his fancy car and all.”
Ivan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Officer,” he began without knowing what to say.
As he watched Alfred scribble into his book, Ivan felt a wave of irritation wash over him. He was due to take his car into the garage, he had booked an appointment weeks beforehand and was due to go, just as soon as his business was finished. What rotten luck to be caught out on a freeway in the middle of nowhere by some hick traffic cop with something to prove!
“Officer,” he started again, and Alfred looked up from his book this time. “I apologise for the broken taillight. I have an appointment to have it fixed, I can show you the receipt. I’m just in town for one night from out of state – and I would rather not have a ticket if you please.”
Alfred stared at him, his eyes still shielded behind his shades, but he had stopped writing.
“Do you think we could, uh, just settle it here, just between us?” Ivan expanded vaguely.
Alfred kept staring, his pen still poised over the ticket. The silence stretched taut between them, and just as Ivan was beginning to regret his words, Alfred said slowly, “So you’re offering to bribe me, am I understanding you correctly?”
Throwing all caution to the wind, Ivan let out the breath he had been holding and indicated towards his wallet which lay abandoned among its strewn contents on the hood of his car.
“There’s cash in there, about $300. Please, it’s yours, sir, for your trouble.”
With a snap, Alfred shut his ticket book. He bent down so his eyes were level with Ivan’s as he hissed, “Get out of the car.”
Ivan’s heart dropped. He knew he had been gambling on the potential that the situation would go south but he had not expected this reaction. Reluctantly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. Alfred stepped back from the car, allowing Ivan to step out onto the road.
“Right, on your knees.”
“Officer Jones, there’s really no need for all thi-”
“I said, on your knees!”
Slowly, Ivan crouched down, his hands raised palms up in a show of compliance. Once close to the ground, he folded his legs and knelt, suppressing a wince as the asphalt bit into his knees. He glanced warily up at Alfred.
“You think you can bribe an officer of the law here, do ya? You goddamn Russki.”
Alfred spat out his gum which landed horribly close to Ivan, making him flinch.
“Well,” Alfred said as he pulled out a fresh stick of Wrigley’s Doublemint, “I don’t need your money, Russki, but as it turns out there is something you can do for me.”
With a crunch of gravel underfoot, Alfred advanced on Ivan, tossing the small gum wrapper onto the ground. As he loomed over Ivan, he pushed his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers. The rest of his fingers pointed almost comically emphatically down towards his crotch. Ivan stared.
Comprehension slowly dawned on him as Alfred started unbuckling his belt. Eyes widening, Ivan looked up for confirmation, but all he could see was his own apprehensive face staring straight back at him from those maddeningly mirrored shades. He looked back down as Alfred unfastened the fly of his pants and pulled his cock free.
“Let’s just settle it here, just between us,” Alfred said, echoing Ivan’s words with an ironic smirk.
With a stab of regret, all the cumulative events of the day that led to him coming to eye level with a cop’s dick hovering less than a foot from his face flashed across Ivan's mind’s eye.
Swallowing his reluctance, Ivan opened his mouth, and he took in as much of Alfred as he could, letting his tongue slide wetly along the underside of the soft appendage. To his surprise, he heard a pleasured sigh escape the officer’s lips. Closing his lips around the shaft, he gave a hesitant bob of his head, and was rewarded with the sensation of Alfred’s cock hardening.
“Oh fuck,” Alfred whispered hoarsely.
Encouraged by Alfred’s reaction and eager to be done with the whole sordid affair, Ivan continued the bobbing motion. The officer’s cock slid wetly in and out of his lips, creating a host of sucking, slurping noises that seemed to crowd all other sounds out from his ears. He maintained a steady rhythm, his eyes closed as he breathed through his nose. Without realising it, he had brought his hands up to hold Alfred by his waist so as to steady himself as he serviced him.
What felt like a small eternity of sucking off the rogue cop was abruptly broken as Alfred grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him in. Ivan’s yelp, both of surprise and pain, was swallowed by the involuntary gag he made as Alfred’s cock slammed into the back of his throat. To his horror, something hot flooded his mouth, coating his throat and tongue with an acrid bitter taste; spluttering, he attempted to pull back, but Alfred held tightly to him as he finished inside of him.
“Fuck yeah!” Alfred moaned as Ivan choked on his dick, his nose pressed into Alfred’s groin as a mixture of drool and cum dribbled from his mouth and soaked into Alfred's pubic hair.
When Alfred finally released his grip, Ivan doubled over and retched. A small puddle of saliva and semen formed on the black asphalt as his eyes watered and his stomach heaved.
“Well, that’s fucking disgusting,” Alfred said airily, loudly snapping his gum as he zipped up his pants.
Ivan spat at the ground and fished out a handkerchief to wipe his mouth with it, feeling utterly humiliated. Slowly, he staggered back up to his feet, his head bowed. He forced himself to make eye contact with his tormentor who looked completely unruffled.
“Am I free to go?” he rasped.
Alfred’s lips split into a mirthless grin, revealing rows of gleaming white teeth.
“Sure, mister, you have yourself a nice day!” he said brightly, with all the muster of the south’s famed hospitality, but there was a mocking disingenuity to his tone.
Keeping a wary eye on Alfred, Ivan grabbed his jacket and wallet from the hood and slid back into his car, tossing his belongings haphazardly into the passenger seat as he closed the door behind him. He reached for his seatbelt, which was when he noticed that Alfred had his hand resting on the frame of his wound-down window.
Suppressing a sigh, Ivan asked, “Is there something else, officer?”
The scent of mint filled his nostrils as Alfred leaned in and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to him. His own mouth fell open in shock, and he felt Alfred’s tongue snake in and plunder him with a searing passion, pushing him back with a surprising display of strength.
Then, just as suddenly, Alfred pulled back and straightened up. With a small wave, he turned towards his own car and sidled off, whistling cheerfully.
Ivan closed his mouth and tasted the half-chewed gum Alfred had left behind as a souvenir.