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Al's apartment, a few days later

Spending more of my time here, now. Much of it as I can, really.

Still have to be careful, of course. Think Al's got some kind of plan in place to tidy away any evidence of our previous deal; figure I'm better off not knowing the details.

But we've been able to get up together in the mornings, mostly, and I'm here when he comes back from work - which seems to be getting earlier, these past days. And it's - easy. More absurdly domestic than I'd've thought possibly, when he straightens my tie under my chin with a slight frown for my scruffiness, or I take his jacket and kiss him as he comes in the door. Almost frightening how fast it's starting to feel normal, him and me, here. Not sure I realised how I've missed living with someone, since Syl. Knowing it'll last, god willing. Knowing that I'm home.

[Open to Al]

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tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 17th, 2010 12:22 pm (UTC)
"And your brother is dead." Think of saying, thank you, Al, I was aware, but my heart's not in being bitchy. And I know what he means, anyway, so when he kneels and kisses me I rest my hand lightly in his hair, lifting my bad leg out of my pants leg.

"Yes," I say, simply. "He is." I look down at him kneeling there, and feel a kind of twinge around my heart. It's closer to pain than love, I think, this feeling, but it's not a bad sort. More like the pain when something's healing than when it's rotting, for once.

"I hate that we wouldn't have this, if he wasn't." I didn't mean to say that - just came out of its own accord. Suppose I have to run with it, then, and I sigh. Not what I wanted to be discussing. "That I - gave him that much power." I brush Al's hair back, trace his hairline with a finger.

For all that my voice's calm enough my heart's going fast. Only discussed this once, ever, with him, and never sober.
al_shairan
Sep. 17th, 2010 12:36 pm (UTC)
"I hate that we wouldn't have this, if he wasn't. That I - gave him that much power."

I look up at him. His hand is very gentle on my hair.

"I hate him," I say flatly. "I hate him the way I hate Gabe. Maybe more," I say, and is that not a thought? "Because he hurt you, not me." I stroke the inside of his leg and stand up. "Our families fucked us up quite well," I observe, drawing him to me, bare skin against skin. "But we can leave that behind."
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 17th, 2010 12:47 pm (UTC)
"I hate him the way I hate Gabe. Maybe more." Feel my throat close up at that, so that I can't speak until he's pulled me in against him. "Our families fucked us up quite well. But we can leave that behind."

I put my arms round him. His gentleness always amazes me, when he shows it. I know that I'd kill Gabe, if I could. Find the knowledge sitting in me, just like that. I think I'd enjoy it.

I should feel wrong about that, but I can't, holding him like that. Just think about the youth he must've been, how he was broken. I'd do it, Al. Thought makes me press against him a bit more firmly.

"We can leave it all behind." I drop my head and kiss the place where his neck joins his shoulder, very gently. I remember him saying he'd kill anyone who stood in our way, and think how the muzzle of his gun pressed up against my jaw. My hand brushes down to his ass, rests there lightly.
al_shairan
Sep. 17th, 2010 12:55 pm (UTC)
He presses against me. Love.

"We can leave it all behind."

"Yes," I say as he puts his mouth against my neck. "Oh, yes." I shiver lightly as he strokes my ass. "It is lucky Quet killed himself," I say, tone quite cold. "Because you know I would do it. A gun would not be enough, not for that." It has been a very long time since I got my hands dirty. But this - I would cut his heart out. I almost wish he were still alive, so I could have that satisfaction. So I could show Tez what I would do for him.

"How," I say, "do you want to fuck?" I want to give him what he wants, and I put my hand between us, get my hand lightly round his cock.
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 17th, 2010 01:12 pm (UTC)
"It is lucky that Quet killed himself. Because you know I would do it. A gun would not be enough, not for that."

The name, on his lips, makes my muscles tense. But what he says - yes. No one has ever - the difference in that, from when - my parents - My hand closes on his ass, harder than I meant. His voice was so very hard. "No one," I say, "has ever wanted to do anything like that for me." I know he would do it. It's not just words. I wish -

"I wish I had done it myself." My voice clenches down, a tight crouching thing. "I should have." I think I'd do it now.

But then his hand's on my cock, just gently, and he asks me, "How do you want to fuck?" I breathe out hard, let it go. He's dead, and we're here. We're here.

"I worry about the day I won't be creative enough for you," I say lightly. It's an anxiety, true, but not a very deep one. I don't think it'll be a problem. "I just want to suck your cock, Al." Still feel awkward saying that, embarrassed, but it's easier than it was. "In bed, comfortably, for a long time." Grin at him and squeeze his ass, deliberately this time. "Feel free to read a book or something. I'll keep myself entertained."

The joking eases the tension in me. "If you want to do something more energetic after, sure. But let me do that, first. You don't even have to come." I just want to be comfortable in bed with him, my mouth gentle, exploring him yet again. I don't get tired of that.
al_shairan
Sep. 17th, 2010 11:38 pm (UTC)
"No one," I say, "has ever wanted to do anything like that for me."

"You have not been loved enough," I say, tight fierce tone matching his. I kiss him firmly, closed hard lips.

"I wish I had done it myself."

What can I say to that? So I say nothing, but as I touch him I feel him relax.

"I worry about the day I won't be creative enough for you. I just want to suck your cock, Al. In bed, comfortably, for a long time. Feel free to read a book or something. I'll keep myself entertained. If you want to do something more energetic after, sure. But let me do that, first. You don't even have to come."

"Oh, yes, I shall catch up on back issues of the New Yorker as you give me a blow job," I say laconically, and then I grin at him. I am sure he can feel how his words have really made me feel, given he is holding me against him. "I very much doubt I will grow bored of our sex life," I add, in case it is something he is truly concerned about. "I love our crazy fucking," I say. "But the reason having sex with you is so good is because it is you." It is a sentimental note, but I have found myself not minding striking those with Tez. "Come," I say, holding my hand out to him. "Let us go upstairs."
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 18th, 2010 05:11 am (UTC)
"Oh, yes, I shall catch up on back issues of the New Yorker as you give me a blow job."

"Damn," I tell him, "it was the financial papers, in my fantasy."</i> Don't think the New Yorker would make him hard like that. Hope it wouldn't, anyway. Difficult to be sure, with Al.

"I very much doubt I will grow bored of our sex life. I love our crazy fucking. But the reason having sex with you is so good is because it is you." My grin softens. Fuck it, Al, you'll get me all emotional. "Come. Let us go upstairs."

I have to drop his hand to get myself up the stairs - even with my new leg, they're narrow enough. But I take it again when we're up, and tug him over to the bed, push him gently down with his back against the pillows.

"I've been wanting to do this," I say, getting on the bed with him, "all fucking day." Normally I'd stay beside him, bend over him like that, but instead I push his legs apart and get between them.

Hell of a nice view.

Grin up at him - "You sure you don't want a magazine?" - and lick very lightly at the underside of his cock. The smell of him actually makes saliva start up in my mouth. This is for me, as much as him. Could almost laugh, if my mouth wasn't busy, thinking about how we talked about porn. How I used to watch it, sweaty and guilty, two men or more together; how when I'd start off I was imagining lips wrapped around my dick, but how somehow at the end, when my hand was moving fast and I was stifling sounds in my throat and my thoughts weren't under my control any more - how then it would somehow be me on my knees. Afterwards I'd feel sick and shaken, of course, and try to forget, but it was there.

I should tell him about that, I think, and how the same thing happened with images of fucking. I think that he'd enjoy that.
al_shairan
Sep. 19th, 2010 12:15 am (UTC)
"I've been wanting to do this," I say, getting on the bed with him, "all fucking day."

"Good," I say, smiling at him as he gets between my legs. I reach out and touch his hair. "I would hate to be the only one who sat behind a desk thinking about us fucking." I have thought about that quite often in my office, and now I find myself thinking about what Tez suggested the other day, of taking me in my office, his cock inside me as I rested my elbows on my executive desk.

I sigh as he licks my prick, and I settle back against the pillows, closing my eyes. It is very gentle, and slow. It is not like our fierce fucking, but it is still very hot. I love how much Tez loves my body, the pleasure he takes in it for its own sake.

And he's fucking good with his mouth. That helps.

I am, after a long sweet while, not too far from climaxing, and I gently push him back.

"Not yet," I say. "I want to touch you before I come."
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 19th, 2010 12:25 am (UTC)
"Not yet. I want to touch you before I come."

I let him push me away, a little reluctantly, and smile up at him. "Alright, then." I can hardly complain about that.

I haul myself up beside him, lie pressed full-length against his side. "I could do this all night," I say, and my voice is - happy. Not just content: happy. I lip his shoulder, bite it very, very gently, hardly more than a press and graze of teeth.

"I like the thought of you thinking about me at your desk," I say, and I rest cheek against his shoulder for a moment. "I miss you, during the day."
al_shairan
Sep. 19th, 2010 12:40 am (UTC)
"I like the thought of you thinking about me at your desk. I miss you, during the day."

I feel my heart swell at that.

"When you say things like that," I say, smiling, "I feel like I could be eighteen again, the giddy rush of it." I stroke his hair. "I ache for you," I say, low voiced. "I did even before I knew I loved you." My hand runs down his side, stroking slow and steady, then slips between us to grasp his cock. My grip is very light; I do not want to make him come like this. I like this for now, talking to him and touching him, his cock hot in my hand. "Sometimes it is hard to do anything but think of you." And then I am giving him a more sly look, tone less soft. "Sometimes it is tempting to unzip my pants behind my beautiful desk and relieve some of my thoughts during the working day."
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 19th, 2010 12:58 am (UTC)
"When you say things like that, I feel like I could be eighteen again, the giddy rush of it."

Good, I think, fiercely. It's like I can wipe Gabe out by that, what he did, and replace him with something better. He wraps his hand round my cock, which is pretty fucking hard from the time I've spent sucking him. It's not nearly enough.

"Sometimes it is tempting to unzip my pants behind my beautiful desk and relieve some of my thoughts throughout the working day."

Oh, I know that look. "I thought you were the boss," I say, and push just a little into his hand. "Surely you can jerk off at your desk if you want. Otherwise, what's the point of power?" Pretty sure that P.A. of his would savage anyone who tried to interrupt.

Smiling, too, at beautiful desk. Of course he's got furniture he thinks is beautiful, rather than the junk we get stuck with. Of course.
al_shairan
Sep. 19th, 2010 01:09 am (UTC)
"Surely you can jerk off at your desk if you want. Otherwise, what's the point of power?"

I grin at that, and at the way he pushes into my hand.

"I like to be professional," I say, tone lightly chiding. "However..." I give him a considering look, and manage to stop the corner of my mouth twitching up. "Perhaps there are limits to my professionalism. I suppose next time I am at work with a hard on, I could call you, and tell you about how I am imagining holding your head down between my legs, forcing my cock down your throat. Let you hear me jerking myself off." I give him a little smile. "But I would tell you not to come," I say idly, giving his cock a firmer squeeze. "Perhaps I could make you wait until I got home."
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 19th, 2010 01:22 am (UTC)
"I suppose next time I am at work with a hard on, I could call you, and tell you about how I am imagining holding your head down between my legs, forcing my cock down your throat. Let you hear me jerking myself off. But I would tell you not to come. Perhaps I could make you wait until I got home."

...I hate him. I hate his smug smile, and his careless voice, and his filthy fucking ideas. "That would be fucking horrible," I tell him happily. He must've felt my cock twitch. Fuck, fuck. "Is that what you imagine, then? Maybe you should just call me a cab, next time." Forcing my cock down... "I'm sure there's room under your desk."

Two can play at this game, you bastard.
al_shairan
Sep. 19th, 2010 01:32 am (UTC)
Tez's prick twitches in my hand, and I smile at him quite openly now. I do love provoking him.

"Is that what you imagine, then? Maybe you should just call me a cab, next time. I'm sure there's room under your desk."

Oh, now there is a thought, and I shift so that I can press my own cock against him.

"I imagine a lot of things," I say, tone still careless. "Sometimes I find myself quite distracted from my paperwork by thinking about what it feels like to have my cock inside you, for instance." I move my hand quite lightly on his prick. "And suppose you did come to my office," I say. "Think how embarrassed you would be, wondering whether people would suspect why you were there... And what would I do with you, once I had closed the door? Perhaps I would get you to bend over my desk, and put my fingers inside your ass until you were begging me to fuck you. I do not know if I would, though," I say cheerfully. "It might depend on how nicely you asked." I give him cock another squeeze. I am very, very hard now, thinking of this.
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 19th, 2010 05:03 am (UTC)
"Sometimes I find myself quite distracted from my paperwork by thinking about what it feels like to have my cock inside you, for instance." Nice to see I really am working on bringing down the Shairan empire. His touch is frustratingly gentle.

"Think how embarrassed you would be, wondering whether people would suspect why you were there... And what would I do with you once I had closed the door? Perhaps I would get you to bend over my desk, and put my fingers inside your ass until you were betting me to fuck you."

Shit.

"I do not know if I would, though.

Oh, shit.

"It might depend on how nicely you asked.

His hand tightens on my cock, and I think: oh, I am going to end you, Shairan. "And I thought you wanted me to fuck you on your desk. And you know I'm not very good at asking nicely." Say it as casually as I can. I can see how hard he is, too. "Remember you were the one who begged in Mexico. 'Please, officer, teach me a lesson'...."

Now that's a fucking good memory. Want to fold my hand over his on my dick, make him jerk it harder, roughly. Don't do it, of course. He's got to be in enough of a state himself, after I sucked him like that. Wonder just how much more worked up I can get him.

"But you like me to beg," I say, and my voice's gone low, rough. "I remember, the other night - didn't think I could do it, and you made me - hit me, threatened me - and I begged, for you, like I never have...."

Twist a bit so I can look at him without pulling my dick out of his grip. "For you," I say seriously. "Just for you. Begged you to fuck me, and I would in your office, over your desk - beg for more than your fingers, beg for your cock - "

I'm not experienced at this, not at all, but I remember the way he looked. Flushed and embarrassed and not quite sure what to say, but I go on: "Beg for it - for it deep inside me - promise to do anything for if you'll just fuck me, because I need you so bad."

Wonder just how long the two of us can keep this up.
al_shairan
Sep. 19th, 2010 10:21 am (UTC)
"Remember you were the one who begged in Mexico. 'Please, officer, teach me a lesson'...."

Now that is a memory I have replayed many times. I can hear my breath coming harsh now, and I wish he would touch my dick. But then his voice is dipping down, and his face is flushed, and he is saying:

"Beg for it - for it deep inside me - promise to do anything for if you'll just fuck me, because I need you so bad."

I make a low sound in the back of my throat, quite without thinking about it. Fuck. Then the telephone rings.

"Ignore it. I like you to beg," I say thickly. "I like knowing that you are helpless and that you like that, to give yourself over to me. I would do it," I say, "hard, and you would want to cry out, even knowing all those other people were on the other side of the door. Maybe even because you knew that. Wondering if they could imagine me fucking you." My breathing sounds quite ragged now, and I pull him against me with my leg, cock pressed up between us.

The phone rings again, and I make an exasperated sound and pick it up.

"What?"

"Mr Shairan," says the voice of the concierge. "A man is here with a delivery for you; I have buzzed him in."

"Thank you," I say tightly, and hang up. "Remember that we ordered dinner?" I sit up and throw on a robe and storm downstairs. When I open the door and take the bag, I think the delivery boy is somewhat horrified to be greeted by a nearly-naked man with an obvious erection. I shut the door. "If you want to stop for dinner," I shout up the stairs, "I might have to kill you."



Edited at 2010-09-19 02:01 pm (UTC)
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 20th, 2010 01:26 am (UTC)
I think I've got him - think I've got him - though what he's saying.... When he pulls me in I press against him hard. Maybe even because you knew that. Fuck, Al. Fuck.

-- why the fuck does he answer the phone, rather than just knocking it off the hook?

"Remember we ordered dinner?"

Oh, jesus, no. But he gets up before I can stop him and stomps out, and I hear voices and then: "If you want to stop for dinner, I might have to kill you."

Think for a moment about yelling back that I'm really fucking hungry, to wind him up, but knowing him he'd make us stop to eat just to fuck with me. Bastard.

"Get your ass back up here, then," I shout, "or I'll come without you and leave you to sort yourself out." As if I would, and he knows it. Shift onto my back, spread my legs a little bit, and grip my cock, just to be sure I'm looking as obscene as possible by the time he gets back up.

Noodles can fucking wait.
al_shairan
Sep. 20th, 2010 09:38 am (UTC)
For a horrible moment I suspect that he will say he wants dinner, because, after all, it is what I would do if the situation were reversed. But he does not, thank fuck. I walk back up the stairs, and Tez is -

I hardly even think, just act. A low snarl rises from my throat as I cross the room toward him, shedding my robe, and in a moment I have rolled him onto his front, my thighs clamped on either side of his.

"Keep talking," I say fiercely, and bend down so that I can bite the back of his neck.
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 20th, 2010 07:01 pm (UTC)
He's on me straight away, has me face-down in the bedding. His teeth are rough on the back of my neck. "Keep talking."

How I'm meant to do that with a faceful of pillow I'm not sure. My cock's painful under me. Manage to fight my face free, gasp in a breath of air.

Try to catch the thread of what I was saying before. "When you do it," I say, voice rough. I can feel the warm weight of him, his cock pressed up against my ass. Move under him again, pushing at him, wanting him to move back and - "When you fuck me. It won't hurt this time, it'll go in so easy, because of the time you took. Slide - slide right in - " I'm running out of words, but that image is so sharp in my mind, that feeling. "Over your desk, and you're pushing right in up to your balls, first thrust, yes - "

Push up and back again. Can't keep still under him. Want him.
al_shairan
Sep. 20th, 2010 07:16 pm (UTC)
He is panting underneath me, pushing back against my cock, and the things he says... "Over your desk, and you're pushing right in up to your balls, first thrust, yes - "

I can imagine that so sharply that I swallow back a strangled sound, feeling my cock twitch hard against his ass.

"You love it," I say roughly, "when I fuck you in the ass." I press down against him. "All those years you spent pretending you did not want it, and now you are shameless for me." I slide down the bed and pull his legs apart roughly. "If you come without my say so, you will be fucking sorry," I say, and then I put my mouth against his hole, tongue slipping inside him.
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 20th, 2010 07:29 pm (UTC)
He presses his dick harder against me, the fucking tease. "You love it when I fuck you in the ass. All those years pretending you did not want it, and now you are shameless for me."

His weight shifts from on top of me. His hands are rough on my legs, and I gasp in needy relief. Yes, Al, do it, please - "Just for you," I pant. "Love it when you do it - only shameless for you - for you - " Now, do it now -

Fuck. Bite down hard on my lower lip. "If you come without my say so, you will be fucking sorry." His mouth's impossibly warm and wet, his tongue sliding inside me, a rough graze of stubble against my ass cheeks and my balls and I whine. God, fuck, I need more, I need to come, I need him, need him. Scrabble a bit, trying to get my leg up under me to give him better access, but he's still holding onto me, holding me down.
al_shairan
Sep. 20th, 2010 07:51 pm (UTC)
"Just for you. Love it when you do it - only shameless for you - for you - "

Just for me.
I know no one has ever wanted me this much, this completely, and the satisfaction I feel is as complete as it is savage. He whines as I rim him, and when he tries to move I push him back down, hands hard on his thighs. My own cock is so hard that it hurts, rushing blood making me ache, but it is worth it for the sounds he makes.

I draw back at last. I have to grip the base of my cock for a moment, seeing Tez sprawled on the bed like that, his asshole wet with my spit. I find lube in the bedside drawer, and I slick some across my cock quickly. That will do. Then I grasp Tez by the hips and pull him down the bed.

"On your knees," I say, standing at the end of the bed. I want to be able to fuck him so deeply. I need to be in him.
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 20th, 2010 08:50 pm (UTC)
Just lie there, feeling my wet asshole cooling where he's left me splayed open, while he rummages. Shows how much that working out pays off when he hauls me bodily down the bed, like it's no effort at all. Quite happy to be manhandled my him, right now.

"On your knees."

It's not the easiest for me, and he knows it, but I don't make any kind of complaint, just scramble up. Most of my weight's on my hands and my good knee, but I think I can brace myself for him well enough. "Hurry the fuck up," I say, breathless. Foreplay's gone on long enough.
al_shairan
Sep. 20th, 2010 08:58 pm (UTC)
He gets himself awkwardly onto all fours. It is strange how that awkwardness is hot; that it is an effort, but he does it for me.

"Hurry the fuck up," he says, and I smack his ass with the flat of my hand.

"Brat," I say, and then I pull his cheeks apart roughly so I can enter him hard. It is no trouble at all to slide deep into him like this, and I breathe out hard. Fuck, Tez, fuck. I get in as deep as I can, and I take a moment to breathe, to not think about how hot he is around me, how firmly he is holding my dick. I do not want to come. So I hold him for a moment, hands tight on his hips, breathing through my nose, and then I pull back and thrust in again. Yes, oh fuck.
tezcatl_ipoca
Sep. 20th, 2010 09:25 pm (UTC)
"Brat." Stinging slap that startled a breathless laugh out of me, but then I'm swallowing the sound because he's oh god, yes, he's pushing into me, finally, finally.

Know him well enough now to know what that pause means, that stifled sound to his breath. Makes me grin in satisfaction, even as I'm pushing back impatiently. Can't, very much, with the grip he's got on me.

About to tell him to fucking move when he does. Better. Much better. "Harder," I say, demanding. "Deeper. C'mon, Al, you've got more than that to give me." After this fucking wait, he'd better.
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