The Hustler 1/4 (Brian/Dom)
Title: Hustler 1/4
Author: blackberry belle
Rating: PG
Pairing: Brian/Dom
Warnings: Pre-movie AU, language
Feedback: Always greatly appreciated
Disclaimer: Clearly these characters are not mine.
Summary: Dom picks Brian up.
Author's Note:The fic was inspired by the header under the cut created by kliqzangel .
The original is here http://community.livejournal.com/quarter_mile/90836.html?#cutid1. I hadn't intended to write a fic at all, I blame the header. There will probably be at least one more part. It probably looks like a hooker!fic, but looks can be deceiving. I have no idea why there's more than one cut. It's annoying, but I'm too sleepy to give it more thought.
The Hustler
Dom yanked the steering wheel to the left and made a rubber burning turn off Sunset boulevard on to a residential side street. It was mid-week and he had been hoping for a straight shot to PCH, but that wasn't what he got. Traffic was bumper to bumper. He'd hung as long as he could until he couldn't stand the stop go stop go anymore. He figured there was some band, that he'd never heard of before, playing at the House of Blues or the Key Club. He couldn't remember the last band he'd seen. It wasn't really his thing. He'd thought about trying to find a race, but mostly tonight he just needed to get out, to get away to anywhere, where no one knew his name. Where there was no garage, no team and no side gig that would put him back in prison.
A five minute traffic respite down a WeHo side street wasn't much, but at the moment he would take it.
As he rumbled down Laurel, a light next to an awning at the end of the street caught his eye. What the light illuminated drew his attention. Light wavy hair, black tank top, tight jeans, pale skin made that much more pale by the spill of light. Dom figured the guy could have been waiting for someone in the Bar which was the word etched on the awning. But something in the jut of his hip as he leaned against the wall and the tilt of his head said otherwise. Said he was waiting for anyone who would pay the price, said 'fuck you' to anyone who could.
Drawn by the attitude, Dom slid into the red a few yards from the door, but didn't cut his engine. He'd done this before, slipped into a bar in a neighborhood that wasn't his own. Drank Corona after Corona until just before he'd reached the point where he wouldn't be able to drive. Once in a while not stopping soon enough and white knuckling his way home.
The pro straightened and sauntered to the passenger side window and leaned in. His smile was bright, screamed golden boy with no cares. He looked genuinely happy. Dominic was struck with an urge that seemed to bubble from his toes. His hands suddenly itched to punch the grinning whore in the mouth. He stared at the toothy grin and and felt the cold prickle of realization. He could. For the right price, he could work out the current kink in his soul on the body of the man leaning into his window. He wouldn't have to be gentle or careful. He wouldn't have to be himself. He wouldn't get pulled over on a DUI.
“Get in the car.”
The whore smiled wider as his eyes sparked and raked across Dom's face, his body.
“What exactly are you askin' for big man,” came the low purr.
Dom grimaced and said nothing. Allowed the opening and closing of the bar door to take his attention for a moment. But only just that.
“What do guys usually want with you?”
“They want all kinds of things. Different strokes,” the whore leered,”if you know what I mean?”
Dom imagined and his fingers twitched.
“Get in the car and I'll tell you.”
“Sorry, papi. A boy's got to watch his back,” purred back at him. And the smile didn't dim one bit.
Dom's foot tapped the accelerator as he blew out a frustrated sigh. He'd never picked up a whore, but he was fairly certain it wasn't supposed to take this much talking. The blond was built. His arms like gunboats. He looked like he could hold his own. Looked like...And then the dime dropped. Hard. Dom's fingers curled so tightly around his steering wheel, it creaked in his hands. Dom stared hard at the whore, who simply quirked his brow. The smile ever present. And then something subtle shifted in his eyes. Dom read it, ignored it.
“Get...in..the..goddamn car,” he ground out. The whore stood up, stretching his arms across the roof of the car. Dom started to say something about scratching the paint, but the window framing the bottom of the whore's tank top as it road up, exposing a taught unblemished stomach, distracted him. Dom's eyes skittered over the flesh then drifted away. Movement at the passenger window drew his eye again.
The whore slid his hand into the pocket of jeans that were really too tight to allow it and extracted a pack of cigarettes. Dom opened his mouth to growl there was no smoking in his car, but before he could get it out, the pack was crumpled and tossed to the sidewalk.
Without a word, the whore poured himself into the passenger seat of the car. Dom eased away from the curb, managing to flip a precision U on the narrow street. Pointing the car north, toward Sunset he gunned the engine.
“You gonna tell me what you want now?”
“Let's just go for a ride.”
The whore sprawled in the passenger seat.
“I can do that.”
End Part 1
Author: blackberry belle
Rating: PG
Pairing: Brian/Dom
Warnings: Pre-movie AU, language
Feedback: Always greatly appreciated
Disclaimer: Clearly these characters are not mine.
Summary: Dom picks Brian up.
Author's Note:The fic was inspired by the header under the cut created by kliqzangel .
The original is here http://community.livejournal.com/quarter_mile/90836.html?#cutid1. I hadn't intended to write a fic at all, I blame the header. There will probably be at least one more part. It probably looks like a hooker!fic, but looks can be deceiving. I have no idea why there's more than one cut. It's annoying, but I'm too sleepy to give it more thought.
The Hustler
Dom yanked the steering wheel to the left and made a rubber burning turn off Sunset boulevard on to a residential side street. It was mid-week and he had been hoping for a straight shot to PCH, but that wasn't what he got. Traffic was bumper to bumper. He'd hung as long as he could until he couldn't stand the stop go stop go anymore. He figured there was some band, that he'd never heard of before, playing at the House of Blues or the Key Club. He couldn't remember the last band he'd seen. It wasn't really his thing. He'd thought about trying to find a race, but mostly tonight he just needed to get out, to get away to anywhere, where no one knew his name. Where there was no garage, no team and no side gig that would put him back in prison.
A five minute traffic respite down a WeHo side street wasn't much, but at the moment he would take it.
As he rumbled down Laurel, a light next to an awning at the end of the street caught his eye. What the light illuminated drew his attention. Light wavy hair, black tank top, tight jeans, pale skin made that much more pale by the spill of light. Dom figured the guy could have been waiting for someone in the Bar which was the word etched on the awning. But something in the jut of his hip as he leaned against the wall and the tilt of his head said otherwise. Said he was waiting for anyone who would pay the price, said 'fuck you' to anyone who could.
Drawn by the attitude, Dom slid into the red a few yards from the door, but didn't cut his engine. He'd done this before, slipped into a bar in a neighborhood that wasn't his own. Drank Corona after Corona until just before he'd reached the point where he wouldn't be able to drive. Once in a while not stopping soon enough and white knuckling his way home.
The pro straightened and sauntered to the passenger side window and leaned in. His smile was bright, screamed golden boy with no cares. He looked genuinely happy. Dominic was struck with an urge that seemed to bubble from his toes. His hands suddenly itched to punch the grinning whore in the mouth. He stared at the toothy grin and and felt the cold prickle of realization. He could. For the right price, he could work out the current kink in his soul on the body of the man leaning into his window. He wouldn't have to be gentle or careful. He wouldn't have to be himself. He wouldn't get pulled over on a DUI.
“Get in the car.”
The whore smiled wider as his eyes sparked and raked across Dom's face, his body.
“What exactly are you askin' for big man,” came the low purr.
Dom grimaced and said nothing. Allowed the opening and closing of the bar door to take his attention for a moment. But only just that.
“What do guys usually want with you?”
“They want all kinds of things. Different strokes,” the whore leered,”if you know what I mean?”
Dom imagined and his fingers twitched.
“Get in the car and I'll tell you.”
“Sorry, papi. A boy's got to watch his back,” purred back at him. And the smile didn't dim one bit.
Dom's foot tapped the accelerator as he blew out a frustrated sigh. He'd never picked up a whore, but he was fairly certain it wasn't supposed to take this much talking. The blond was built. His arms like gunboats. He looked like he could hold his own. Looked like...And then the dime dropped. Hard. Dom's fingers curled so tightly around his steering wheel, it creaked in his hands. Dom stared hard at the whore, who simply quirked his brow. The smile ever present. And then something subtle shifted in his eyes. Dom read it, ignored it.
“Get...in..the..goddamn car,” he ground out. The whore stood up, stretching his arms across the roof of the car. Dom started to say something about scratching the paint, but the window framing the bottom of the whore's tank top as it road up, exposing a taught unblemished stomach, distracted him. Dom's eyes skittered over the flesh then drifted away. Movement at the passenger window drew his eye again.
The whore slid his hand into the pocket of jeans that were really too tight to allow it and extracted a pack of cigarettes. Dom opened his mouth to growl there was no smoking in his car, but before he could get it out, the pack was crumpled and tossed to the sidewalk.
Without a word, the whore poured himself into the passenger seat of the car. Dom eased away from the curb, managing to flip a precision U on the narrow street. Pointing the car north, toward Sunset he gunned the engine.
“You gonna tell me what you want now?”
“Let's just go for a ride.”
The whore sprawled in the passenger seat.
“I can do that.”
End Part 1