New Fic: Tableau
So, instead of preparing for my interview Tuesday, I finished this tonight instead. *g*
Title: Tableau
Pairing: Rick Nash/Rusty Klesla, Gilbert Brule POV (Jackets hockey)
Rating: NC-17, but not too graphic
Summary: A "tableau" is another word for a striking scene. Bru watches one.
A/N: For prompt 15 (Voyeur) on my mini kink table. As kink goes, this is pretty tame. ;) Updated table is here. Thanks to sheesusnat for the beta. *hugs*
Disclaimer: Pretty sure this never happened, but a girl can dream, right? Also, I don't own them, I just like to play with them.
Feedback: Will be loved like a wicked one-timer.
"Thanks, sweetie."
I smile up at the young woman who's just finished shaking her ass in my face and she trails her fingers along my jaw as I tuck another few bills under her g-string. She slides off the bar in front of me and saunters away.
I look around the room; there are a couple of older guys across the way drooling all over themselves over the two girls making out in front of them. There are couples tucked away in booths along the far wall. Bouncers in tuxes leaning in the doorways keeping an eye on everything.
But I don't see Rick and Rusty.
I remember that a petite brunette had pulled both of them back toward the VIP suites for a private lap dance a little while ago. I'm sure that's her down at the other end of the bar, so where the fuck are they?
I scan the room again and sigh. This was fun at first, but I'm getting a little bored with it now; it's not really my thing, and I'd like to get out here sometime soon. So I push myself out of my chair start toward the sign at the back of the room that says "VIP" in glowing purple neon.
I duck through the heavy black curtain and find myself in a short hallway. The two doors on the left and right are both open; only the one directly in front of me is closed. This has to be the one, I think to myself as I wrap my fingers around the door handle, and giving it a twist, crack it open just far enough to duck my head inside.
What I see as I peer around the door makes my mouth go dry and before I know it, a choked gasp forces its way from my throat.
Rusty is sprawled back on a leather couch; he's leaning on his hands where he's tucked them behind his lower back, presumably on a "look, but don't touch" command from the dancer. Rick is straddling his thighs while he fumbles at the buttons on Rusty's shirt.
I'd say Rick's getting frustrated that he isn't making fast enough work of those buttons because he finally just grabs the fabric at the base of Rusty's throat and rips it open the rest of the way. When he lowers his lips to newly exposed flesh, Rusty catches my eyes over Rick's shoulders and, finally pulling his hands free, motions to me to come in.
I quickly slide through the door and push it closed behind me, falling back against it with a thud.
I watch as Rick pulls lips and then tongue over Rusty's collarbone and across his chest, sliding down his body. Bracing himself on the back of the couch, he pushes himself up and drops to the floor to kneel between Rusty's now widely spread thighs.
When Rick begins working the fly of Rusty's jeans open, I swallow thickly and raise my eyes to the ceiling for a split second. I flick back to the scene before me and moan while I take it all in again. Rusty's shirt is open and practically hanging from his shoulders, his pale skin almost glowing beneath the black light and humming neon. Leaning over, Rick sinks down on his cock and Rusty moves one hand to the back of his head, guiding his movements.
Though... Watching these two, I get the feeling that Rick knows just what he likes and needs no help at all.
With Rick's back to me, he's blocking my view and I can't see any of the details, but my imagination is working overtime filling in the blanks for me. I picture Rick's lips stretched wide around Rusty's cock, slowly sliding up and down; driving him out of his mind with his tongue.
Some small part of my brain is weakly protesting that I shouldn't be watching them like this, but I tell it to shut the fuck up. They invited me in to be a part of this and I'll be damned if I could tear my eyes away anyway.
I'm leaning back against the door behind me for support; the music has faded away and it's just white noise in my ears now, heavy bass pounding through my body, thumping in my chest. My jeans have become unbearably tight and I pop the button and tug the zipper down just far enough to get my hand inside and wrap my fingers around my cock.
I can see Rusty tighten his fingers in Rick's hair and when he does I give myself a squeeze, followed by one long pull.
Rusty bites his lip when he comes, but he could scream his throat raw and no one would hear through thick walls and booming music. Even in this dim light, I can see his skin is flushed; my fingers twitch in the desire to run my hands along the planes of his body.
I pull myself together enough to see that Rusty's watching me through half-lidded eyes. Rick sits back on his heels and looks at me over his shoulder. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he gives me a quick wink.
He turns back around to tuck Rusty away and redo his fly. Climbing to his feet, Rick grabs him by the wrists and hauls him to his feet. He lets go just long enough to straighten Rusty's shirt as best he can, but with half of the buttons gone, he gives up and leaves Rusty to hold it closed with one hand. Rick slides an arm around his waist and starts toward me, pulling Rusty along with him.
In the blink of an eye they're standing inches in front of me, Rusty slightly unsteady on his feet and swaying a little, Rick still supporting him with one hand on his waist. They're a good bit taller than I am and I have to look up to see their faces.
Rick pulls my hand away from my cock and tracing the outline of my erection through my jeans, he leans close. I can see over his shoulder now; my eyes lock on Rusty's wide smile as Rick rumbles in my ear. The music is still pounding, but I can hear him clear as day.
"How 'bout we all get out of here and you let the two of us take care of that for you?"
He pulls back and his toothy grin makes me feel like he's ready to devour me at a moment's notice.
I lick my lips and agree with a jerky nod of my head. Zipping up, I follow them out the door.
Title: Tableau
Pairing: Rick Nash/Rusty Klesla, Gilbert Brule POV (Jackets hockey)
Rating: NC-17, but not too graphic
Summary: A "tableau" is another word for a striking scene. Bru watches one.
A/N: For prompt 15 (Voyeur) on my mini kink table. As kink goes, this is pretty tame. ;) Updated table is here. Thanks to sheesusnat for the beta. *hugs*
Disclaimer: Pretty sure this never happened, but a girl can dream, right? Also, I don't own them, I just like to play with them.
Feedback: Will be loved like a wicked one-timer.
"Thanks, sweetie."
I smile up at the young woman who's just finished shaking her ass in my face and she trails her fingers along my jaw as I tuck another few bills under her g-string. She slides off the bar in front of me and saunters away.
I look around the room; there are a couple of older guys across the way drooling all over themselves over the two girls making out in front of them. There are couples tucked away in booths along the far wall. Bouncers in tuxes leaning in the doorways keeping an eye on everything.
But I don't see Rick and Rusty.
I remember that a petite brunette had pulled both of them back toward the VIP suites for a private lap dance a little while ago. I'm sure that's her down at the other end of the bar, so where the fuck are they?
I scan the room again and sigh. This was fun at first, but I'm getting a little bored with it now; it's not really my thing, and I'd like to get out here sometime soon. So I push myself out of my chair start toward the sign at the back of the room that says "VIP" in glowing purple neon.
I duck through the heavy black curtain and find myself in a short hallway. The two doors on the left and right are both open; only the one directly in front of me is closed. This has to be the one, I think to myself as I wrap my fingers around the door handle, and giving it a twist, crack it open just far enough to duck my head inside.
What I see as I peer around the door makes my mouth go dry and before I know it, a choked gasp forces its way from my throat.
Rusty is sprawled back on a leather couch; he's leaning on his hands where he's tucked them behind his lower back, presumably on a "look, but don't touch" command from the dancer. Rick is straddling his thighs while he fumbles at the buttons on Rusty's shirt.
I'd say Rick's getting frustrated that he isn't making fast enough work of those buttons because he finally just grabs the fabric at the base of Rusty's throat and rips it open the rest of the way. When he lowers his lips to newly exposed flesh, Rusty catches my eyes over Rick's shoulders and, finally pulling his hands free, motions to me to come in.
I quickly slide through the door and push it closed behind me, falling back against it with a thud.
I watch as Rick pulls lips and then tongue over Rusty's collarbone and across his chest, sliding down his body. Bracing himself on the back of the couch, he pushes himself up and drops to the floor to kneel between Rusty's now widely spread thighs.
When Rick begins working the fly of Rusty's jeans open, I swallow thickly and raise my eyes to the ceiling for a split second. I flick back to the scene before me and moan while I take it all in again. Rusty's shirt is open and practically hanging from his shoulders, his pale skin almost glowing beneath the black light and humming neon. Leaning over, Rick sinks down on his cock and Rusty moves one hand to the back of his head, guiding his movements.
Though... Watching these two, I get the feeling that Rick knows just what he likes and needs no help at all.
With Rick's back to me, he's blocking my view and I can't see any of the details, but my imagination is working overtime filling in the blanks for me. I picture Rick's lips stretched wide around Rusty's cock, slowly sliding up and down; driving him out of his mind with his tongue.
Some small part of my brain is weakly protesting that I shouldn't be watching them like this, but I tell it to shut the fuck up. They invited me in to be a part of this and I'll be damned if I could tear my eyes away anyway.
I'm leaning back against the door behind me for support; the music has faded away and it's just white noise in my ears now, heavy bass pounding through my body, thumping in my chest. My jeans have become unbearably tight and I pop the button and tug the zipper down just far enough to get my hand inside and wrap my fingers around my cock.
I can see Rusty tighten his fingers in Rick's hair and when he does I give myself a squeeze, followed by one long pull.
Rusty bites his lip when he comes, but he could scream his throat raw and no one would hear through thick walls and booming music. Even in this dim light, I can see his skin is flushed; my fingers twitch in the desire to run my hands along the planes of his body.
I pull myself together enough to see that Rusty's watching me through half-lidded eyes. Rick sits back on his heels and looks at me over his shoulder. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he gives me a quick wink.
He turns back around to tuck Rusty away and redo his fly. Climbing to his feet, Rick grabs him by the wrists and hauls him to his feet. He lets go just long enough to straighten Rusty's shirt as best he can, but with half of the buttons gone, he gives up and leaves Rusty to hold it closed with one hand. Rick slides an arm around his waist and starts toward me, pulling Rusty along with him.
In the blink of an eye they're standing inches in front of me, Rusty slightly unsteady on his feet and swaying a little, Rick still supporting him with one hand on his waist. They're a good bit taller than I am and I have to look up to see their faces.
Rick pulls my hand away from my cock and tracing the outline of my erection through my jeans, he leans close. I can see over his shoulder now; my eyes lock on Rusty's wide smile as Rick rumbles in my ear. The music is still pounding, but I can hear him clear as day.
"How 'bout we all get out of here and you let the two of us take care of that for you?"
He pulls back and his toothy grin makes me feel like he's ready to devour me at a moment's notice.
I lick my lips and agree with a jerky nod of my head. Zipping up, I follow them out the door.