Trevor’s whole body stiffened as he felt the vulgar canine’s hand groping at his behind. It was a near-painful squeeze on the entirety of his tight cheek. Still, those lips pushed around his own feline muzzle to force that long, thin tongue into his mouth. The slimy thing slides over his own to jam itself against Trevor’s throat. He’s forced back enough that he can feel his equilibrium start to give. Only the arm of the dog keeps him from falling over. The cheering of the crowd at this display of raw, animal passion fills the hall around him to echo and ring through his head as he struggles to not slip a claw across this dog’s throat.
	But it’s over soon enough, and at least he’s kind enough to pull Trevor back to standing straight. The cheetah’s face is flush as he turns to look back at his family and friends all seated, clapping at least politely in their little wooden folding chairs. His mother actually had tears in her eyes, a thing so thoroughly unexpected from the woman who had arranged this all with the family oracle well before he was even conceived that it takes him completely from the moment for just a second. Rather than face the dog again, he turns to the officiant, who merely nods to him with a dull smile on his round, ursine face.
	He was married. Forever.
	As were the textile companies their parents’ owned, he supposed. Together, they would control seventy percent of the market. After his sister was married next year, they could increase that to seventy-three.
	None of that seemed to matter to the Boxer with the bright, forceful eyes that could only seem to stare lustfully into his own. Their handful of meetings before this always ending in him grabbing at the cheetah’s body, pulling his tail or trying to slide a hand into the back of his pants to “see what he was getting into.”
	True to form, the dog grabs his hand to pull him down the bright red carpets and out of the hall. It’s an excited half-run that sees every stumbling step on the cheetah’s path build the panic in his gut. He didn’t want this. He’d never planned on being with anyone. Damn the oracles. Damn his parents. Damn this fucking horndog. Damn his grip. Damn his lust. Damn the fucking car waiting outside the door.
	“I need to use the restroom,” he sputters out once they reach the entryway of the building. The dog turns to look at him, confused. Before he can say a word, Trevor interrupts, “To get ready for our wedding night.”
	It was all he could think to say. And going by the way the dog’s smile brightens up, he buys it. Wordlessly nodding his ascent, he releases the cat to his own affairs. “Wait right outside the door, okay?” Trevor says. The dog nods, and follows him into the threshhold.
	Once inside, the cheetah heads straight for the mirror. He’s annoyed at the little flecks of spittle the dog has left on his usually perfect muzzle. It’s only a second to wash them off while he steels himself. From his jacket pocket, he pulls out a small glass vial. It’s contents were highly illegal, the kind of thing he’d had feelers out for months before this to find. He thought he’d need it to go through with the ceremony. It was the strongest love potion known to man. A drop was good for a month. This vial would last for ten years, with side-effects for years after.
	Was he willing to give that part of himself up, though? His heart, the sacred core of his being, that gave him craving and drive and will to live? He stares at the little vial, already knowing the answer even through the protests. It's not like that wasn't decided before he was born as well. If he wanted happiness, this was it. It tastes like chocolate and he realizes why with a sense of defeat.
	The next few hours would be key according to the instructions the witch had given him. It would shape the kind of love he’d crave. Whole sections of his brain would be practically remade. Thankfully, the plane was going to have a small party on it. He’d have his excuses to hold the dog’s hand and whisper sweet nothings to one another among the crowd. Then a night of passion would seal the deal. And she'd even said the love potion would keep him euphoric while it was happening.
	Stepping out with a fresh face. He sees the dog standing there, still smiling his stupid smile. The effects were already taking hold, however. The shift was subtle but he finds himself smiling back a little. It was cute how dumb he looked. The internal shivers at the change are set aside for now. The warm grip of his hand is exactly what he wanted to enjoy, however, when the dog continues to pull them to their car. The chauffeur is waiting to shut them into the back of the limo to finally be alone together. 
	“Hey, can we-” the words are usurped by the dog’s own maw coming to meet his own, the passionate kiss returning once again. Trevor goes to push the Boxer off, but hardly succeeds at ruffling his lapel before the dog starts to speak.
	“So, you’re ready to go now, right?” his excitement is almost child-like when he says it, those bright brown eyes shining with an intensity that startled the cheetah. He was. His mother had hired a professional to see to him before the wedding. A nod is all it takes for the dog to be on him again. The tongue is just as forceful as before, but this time he tries to return it, to feel the lust he’d been promised. And he does, his rough tongue tracing the dog’s own. It’s electricity and fire and a million sources of heat sent cascading through his body.
	When he returns to sitting, pulled up by the dog, his whole body is still burning with it. He looks up at those floppy cheeks and they’re no more handsome than they were before. But they are lovely, even with the spittle. 
	The dog casually unbuttons his trousers, and pulls out a stiff, canine prick. It pulsed in a way that drew the eye, the baseball-sized knot at the base at once sickening his guts and fascinating him. That would definitely hurt. He’s still staring at it when the dog grips his head to push him down into it. A split-second decision opens his mouth, taking the tip in and earning a warm grunt from his husband. 
	“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he says, panting his lust loudly enough that Trevor is sure the driver can hear it. The dog’s hand rubs the cheetah’s neck, causing him to purr around the fat meat in his mouth. It travels slowly down his back while he suckles and licks at the thing that was starting to matter most to him in the world. He hardly notices when that hand flicks open the tail-flap that kept his pants up.
	“Y’know, I did something dumb. I was so worried about tonight that I took a little something to help me… get it up. What say we take a few hours to get to the reception and really work this off?” The words barely register to the cat as he focuses on bobbing his head on the musky dick. He can only purr his response. The dog takes that in with a warm smile.
	“Gods, I love you.”