[KINKMEME FILL] What Came Afterwards [violence, pegging, oral, Nick/Juliette, Nick/Renard]
filled here
Nick knew, he fucking knew Renard was up to something. He couldn't tell if it was something human, Wesen or something else entirely. All he knew was that something was off kilter and he was going to find out why. He tailed Renard as he left for the day. When they pulled up to an abandoned warehouse in the same district as the Lowen fightclub, he knew he was onto something. He waited a few moments after Renard went inside then followed him in.
Renard had walked in like he owned the place, long strides and billowing coat. Nick skulked in the dark, moving smoothly and silently in the moonless night.
When he found the door ajar he crept through. Waited, listened. He heard Renard's voice, low and fierce. He slowly moved towards the sounds but when a shot rang out he started to run. Regardless of what Renard was up to, he was still a cop. He slowed down as the voices got louder; no screaming so it couldn't be too bad. He glanced around the corner and saw Renard standing with three men around him. One had a gun, the others had metal poles. Renard's hands were empty. Nick made a quick calculation and came around the corner with his gun drawn. From this angle only Renard could see him, if Renard looked his way. The four men continued to argue. He'd been waiting for the inevitable change, the Wesen to reveal themselves. He slowly cane to the conclusion that these are just humans.
He waited, watching and finally Renard glanced his way; Nick raised his finger to his lips. Renard was too professional to let anything show on his face. Nick moved into position and finally came out of hiding.
"Portland PD! Put your weapons down!" Nick's voice was hard. "I said weapons down!" He moved sideways towards Renard, his eyes never leaving the three armed men. Consequently he didn't see Renard roll his eyes upward and cross his arms. The three men looked nonplussed.
"What the fuck is this Renard?" said the one with the gun. He gestured at Nick. "You bring this fucking pansy as backup? I could benchpress him with one hand." He laughed and looked at the other armed men.
Which was a mistake. Nick kicked the gun out of his hand and yelled at him to get on the ground. He didn't move. Instead he walked towards Nick. Renard sighed.
"Gentlemen, I suggest we finished this discussion later. Much later. After I have had a discussion with my Officer." Renard's voice was even, persuasive.
Nick looked sideways at his boss. Which was a mistake.
One of the thugs with the pole threw it at him, slamming into his face and spinning his gun into the darkness. Nick stumbled and his cheek bled freely and his fingertips stung. Renard glanced quickly at him, then turned his attention on the men in front of him. They stopped their advance and Renard spoke.
"I have tried to reason with you. I have tried to enlighten you. I have tried to make you a place in my city. You have spurned my offers." Renard's voice lowered. "I do not care who you are the son of, friend of, brother, lover, handy repairman or beloved cousin of. You are done in this city." Renard's hands slipped into his pockets. He took a deep breath.
"So, what will it be gentlemen? Just how stupid do you plan on being?"
Nick's fingers are tingling and his face hurt like hell and he had calculated the odds to be comprehensively negative. When the only one still armed lunged at Renard with the pipe, Nick was prepared to fend off the other two. He wasn't prepared for Renard to dodge the pipe and slam a fist into the other man's gut, the drive his elbow into the back of his skull. Nick was certainly unprepared for Renard then to tilt his head slightly to stare at the other two and pull a set of brass knuckledusters from his pocket, sliding them onto his elegant fingers.
"Again gentlemen, what will it be?" Renard's voice is cold and harsh. Nick's attention is entirely on his captain, so when the one he'd hit before gets up, Nick reacts too slowly. The air in his lungs is driven out and he slowly drops to the floor gasping for breath around the fierce pain in his chest where the other man had punched him. The other man grabs his hair and pulls Nick upwards.
"What are you going to choose, Renard?" He says, shaking his fist and make Nick wince. "You're so fucking loyal and shit, what are you going to choose? We walk, we get the freedom and the cut we want, or this cop of yours won't walk out of here." Nick can barely see Renard's face from the angle his head is being held at, can't make out any expression. He can see the one who threw the pipe moving towards Renard though, creeping up on him. He tries to say something but the thug holding him pulls him up and wraps an arm around his neck.
The message still gets through. Nick can't tell if it was him or if it was the thug holding him.
The thug creeps and Nick struggles to breathe and the one holding him laughs. Only Renard is still. Silent. Waiting.
When the thug reaches for him Renard moves. Like a dancer he pivots and spins, but the violence is too brutal for any grace. His fists pound and blood spatters and in seconds a second man lies still on the ground and Renard stands straight once more.
He is barely breathing heavily. His face is hard as stone, and his nostrils are flared.
"You have no more choices. Let go of my Officer."
Nick feels a chill in his spine. Even held like this by the thug, Renard's voice is the most terrifying thing in the room. He's lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and all he can think of is that voice.
"Let him go." Renard's voice has dropped to a snarl. Three long strides and he is on them. The thug pushes Nick away, into the advancing captain. Renard uses Nick's momentum to push him to something resembling safety, behind Renard's back. Two more strides and he has caught the thug who hurt Nick.
Nick forces himself to watch as Renard coldly, methodically, beats the thug into unconciousness.
Renard calls it in, requesting an ambulance for Nick. The story they both stick to is a midnight rendevous with informants turning into a mugging gone wrong. The records on all three thugs helps the story along. The chill down Nick's spine stays with him through the medical check, through the trip to precinct and back home. It stays with him well into the night. He tells Juliette all of it, apart from the way he waited for the Wesen to show. He tells her about the chill in his spine and as he tells the story he gets hard. Harder and harder as he talked about Renard's voice and methodical violence.
He tells Juliette that too. He decided that if he had to keep the Grimm a secret, nothing else would be allowed to stay under the table. Juliette barely blinks. She knows his tendencies, his past, his desires. He'd told her about that fight at the office, how hard he'd gotten and how long it took him to settle down enough to leave with some semblance of dignity. He knows hers too, and after they fuck, hard and fast on the floor, she tells him that Renard is within the boundaries. They don't often allow it, but it has happened for both of them before. Juliette knows that she could rely on Nick's fidelity until the end, but the cost would never be worth it.
Not when he'd come home to her, fucked open and sated and full of love for her. Particularly since Renard piqued her own interest.
Three days later, with her words burning in his ear, her teethmarks on his shoulders and the burn of her fingers in his ass, Nick walks into Renard's office. He doesn't wait to be acknowledged.
"Respectfully, Sir, what the fuck was that the other night?" Nick's head is still sore where the wound is healing and he presses his fingertips to the scabbed over wound. "Exactly what the fuck are you doing?"
Renard recaps his pen and places it on the desk. "What I was doing was none of your concern Burkhardt. None." Renard's tone brooks no argument and it's only under threat of forced leave for insubordination that Nick lets the matter drop. For now.
After his shift he sends Juliette a quick text.
"Love you. Going to Renard's, not sure when I'll be home."
Juliette returns "love you, play safe".
Nick turns his phone off.
If he had known that the captain was going out for dinner, he'd have chosen a better place to wait. As it is he's reduced to skulking in the alleyway waiting for Renard to arrive. When he does Nick is hungry, angry and impatient. Which is why he decides to simply get in the elevator with Renard. Why bother with anything else?
"Burkhardt." Renard's tone is part question, part warning. "I didn't know you had any reason to be in this building at this time of night." he pressess the button for his floor.
"You know why I'm here Renard." Nick conciously drops the title. He waits as silent as Renard while the elevator rises. Renard raises an eyebrow as Nick follows him to his door. "I need to know exactly what it was I walked in on."
Renard sighed. "Get used to disappointment Burkhardt." His apartment is dimly lit, with dark furniture. Renard heads to the kitchen. "Is there anything else, Officer?" his voice is dry.
"I will not let you endanger this city Renard." Nick's voice is firm, uninflected. Businesslike. Renard's back stiffens. "I will not let you betray us." Renard turns and Nick is reminded of that brutal swiftness in the abandoned warehouse, and earlier, in the office. Renard takes a few steps and stands very close to Nick, and looks him in the eye.
"Never doubt my commitment to this city, or to the people in it. Ever." Renard's voice is low, deadly. "Get out."
Nick tilts his chin up. "No. I watched you beat three men, almost to death, with knuckledusters, in a warehouse in the same area where I was nearly beaten to death in a cagefight! I am not going to turn tail Renard." Nick had stepped forward as he spoke. The two men were nearly touching. "Threaten me, hurt me, whatever. I will keep coming until I know."
Renard looked down into Nick's face. He'd seen him work often enough to know that he would indeed keep coming, keep digging. Renard put his hand into his pocket and took out the knuckledusters, running his fingers over the bronze.
"Do you know why I carry these Burkhardt?" Nick shook his head. If he was confused about the change in subject he didn't show it. "It's because when I need to make a statement, respond to something, it needs to make an impression." Renard watched Nick's eyes, watched him fixate onto the brass, onto Renard's fingers smoothing over the metal. "These were my mother's. She was a champion lady boxer in her day, but every time she went out, some clown would challenge her to a fight. So she carried these. With these she taught the world to let her be. They learnt, soon enough, but she carried them with her until she decided they were better off with me." Renard smiled then, fleetingly, as his eyes narrowed and his mouth firmed. "I will not allow some fool's son to come to my town and use his father's name to further contribute to social decay. His father had asked me to keep an eye on him, and his friends. He had thought this meant some hold over me." Renard leaned forward, breath ghosting over Nick's cheek. "No-one has power over me Burkhardt, least of all you."
Renard pulled back and looked at Nick's face. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his pupils wide. His mouth was slightly open and Renard finally noticed the bite mark diappearing into the undone collared shirt. He tilted his head, remembering the response Nick had displayed after the incident in the precinct offices. He tested his hypothesis and brought his hand, with the brass kncuckles fitting perfectly onto his long fingers, up to press against Nick's jaw. His thumb pressed against Nick's chin and his fingers lay on his cheek, next to his mouth. He could smell the tang of the brass.
"Does Juliette know where you are, Nick?" Renard's voice was low, mocking. "Does she know what you're doing?"
Nick turned his head, minutely. A fraction. Enough to tilt his world. His lips rested on Renard's fingers and he whispered "Yes" into the brass.
Renard blinked. Then pushed Nick back into the cabinetry, hard enough to rattle the glass inside. His thumb pushed between Nick's lips slightly as he pulled Nick up to face him. Nick smiled, a crooked kind of grin.
"She said to play safe, and wishes she were here."
Renard steps back. This was not something he expected. Nick watches him, that crooked smile not wavering in the slightest. Instead he tilts his chin up, bares his throat, submission and challenge and defiance.
They come together in a clash of teeth and tongues and Nick moans shamelessly. Renard is silent but no less demonstrative. He bites and licks and eventually pushes Nick into the wall, pinning him there. He's breathing heavily as he reaches a hand up to Nick's mouth again. With no hesitation Nick opens his mouth and sucks at Renard's fingers. The scent of brass fills his senses.
With Nick silenced, mostly, Renard begins to speak.
"Yes Burkhardt, yes. How long have you wanted this? How long Nick?" Renard's voice is low, and dirty. "The way you're sucking my fingers is obscene, you've done this before haven't you?"
Nick pulls Renard's finger from his mouth, then licks a long strip up his palm. "Fuck yes I've done this before." He pants wetly into Renard's hand and reaches out to pull Renard closer. They push together and Nick moans wildly. "fuck, Renard, I..." Renard kisses him again before he can speak.
"Get on your knees Burkhardt." Renard seems less breathless now, more controlled. "I want you to open your mouth and suck my cock like you've been waiting your whole life for it." Nick is already undoing Renard's fly. "I want to fuck your face."
Nick rests his head on the other man's thigh for a moment, his moan loud and shocked and pleading. Renard's voice, Renard saying that, it's driving electricity through his nerves. His hips thrust into the useless friction of his pants. He's been hard since they got in the elevator.
Renard smiles. Then buries his hands in Nicks hair and pushes the tip of his cock into Nick's mouth. The wet heat, the slide of his cockhead over tongue makes Nick moan and the reverbration makes Renard's fingers tighten.
"Yes Nick, that's it, open your mouth and suck my cock. Wider Nick, wider, I want to feel your tongue and your teeth and the back of your throat." Renard's voice is rough, and his breathing is heavy. "That's it Nick, that's beautiful, just like that you cock-sucker, fucking suck it." Nick moans louder. "I want to fuck your face, your throat. Tu me folle ma amour, sucer."
Nick's breath stutters and he can feel the cold of the brass against his scalp where Renard's long fingers are pressing hard. He can"t speak French but he knows what Renard is asking for. He opens his mouth and swallow Renard's cock, laving it with his tongue, feeling it push into the back of his throat. He doesn't even try to breathe around the thickness of it. He pulls back and breathes deep and swallows it down once more. He lets Renard take hold and thrust into his mouth, picking up the pace until he's fucking into Nick's face. Renard keeps up a steady stream of filthy sounding french until he comes, balls deep in Nick.
As Renard slides free he gently pats Nick's hair, smoothing it down. A drop of come leaks onto Nick's lip and he darts out his tongue to taste the flaccid tip of Renard's cock. Renard smiles and pulls Nick to his feet, leading him down the hallway with one hand, brass knuckles warm and hard against Nick's nape. He shivers and his cock leaks.
Nick knew, he fucking knew Renard was up to something. He couldn't tell if it was something human, Wesen or something else entirely. All he knew was that something was off kilter and he was going to find out why. He tailed Renard as he left for the day. When they pulled up to an abandoned warehouse in the same district as the Lowen fightclub, he knew he was onto something. He waited a few moments after Renard went inside then followed him in.
Renard had walked in like he owned the place, long strides and billowing coat. Nick skulked in the dark, moving smoothly and silently in the moonless night.
When he found the door ajar he crept through. Waited, listened. He heard Renard's voice, low and fierce. He slowly moved towards the sounds but when a shot rang out he started to run. Regardless of what Renard was up to, he was still a cop. He slowed down as the voices got louder; no screaming so it couldn't be too bad. He glanced around the corner and saw Renard standing with three men around him. One had a gun, the others had metal poles. Renard's hands were empty. Nick made a quick calculation and came around the corner with his gun drawn. From this angle only Renard could see him, if Renard looked his way. The four men continued to argue. He'd been waiting for the inevitable change, the Wesen to reveal themselves. He slowly cane to the conclusion that these are just humans.
He waited, watching and finally Renard glanced his way; Nick raised his finger to his lips. Renard was too professional to let anything show on his face. Nick moved into position and finally came out of hiding.
"Portland PD! Put your weapons down!" Nick's voice was hard. "I said weapons down!" He moved sideways towards Renard, his eyes never leaving the three armed men. Consequently he didn't see Renard roll his eyes upward and cross his arms. The three men looked nonplussed.
"What the fuck is this Renard?" said the one with the gun. He gestured at Nick. "You bring this fucking pansy as backup? I could benchpress him with one hand." He laughed and looked at the other armed men.
Which was a mistake. Nick kicked the gun out of his hand and yelled at him to get on the ground. He didn't move. Instead he walked towards Nick. Renard sighed.
"Gentlemen, I suggest we finished this discussion later. Much later. After I have had a discussion with my Officer." Renard's voice was even, persuasive.
Nick looked sideways at his boss. Which was a mistake.
One of the thugs with the pole threw it at him, slamming into his face and spinning his gun into the darkness. Nick stumbled and his cheek bled freely and his fingertips stung. Renard glanced quickly at him, then turned his attention on the men in front of him. They stopped their advance and Renard spoke.
"I have tried to reason with you. I have tried to enlighten you. I have tried to make you a place in my city. You have spurned my offers." Renard's voice lowered. "I do not care who you are the son of, friend of, brother, lover, handy repairman or beloved cousin of. You are done in this city." Renard's hands slipped into his pockets. He took a deep breath.
"So, what will it be gentlemen? Just how stupid do you plan on being?"
Nick's fingers are tingling and his face hurt like hell and he had calculated the odds to be comprehensively negative. When the only one still armed lunged at Renard with the pipe, Nick was prepared to fend off the other two. He wasn't prepared for Renard to dodge the pipe and slam a fist into the other man's gut, the drive his elbow into the back of his skull. Nick was certainly unprepared for Renard then to tilt his head slightly to stare at the other two and pull a set of brass knuckledusters from his pocket, sliding them onto his elegant fingers.
"Again gentlemen, what will it be?" Renard's voice is cold and harsh. Nick's attention is entirely on his captain, so when the one he'd hit before gets up, Nick reacts too slowly. The air in his lungs is driven out and he slowly drops to the floor gasping for breath around the fierce pain in his chest where the other man had punched him. The other man grabs his hair and pulls Nick upwards.
"What are you going to choose, Renard?" He says, shaking his fist and make Nick wince. "You're so fucking loyal and shit, what are you going to choose? We walk, we get the freedom and the cut we want, or this cop of yours won't walk out of here." Nick can barely see Renard's face from the angle his head is being held at, can't make out any expression. He can see the one who threw the pipe moving towards Renard though, creeping up on him. He tries to say something but the thug holding him pulls him up and wraps an arm around his neck.
The message still gets through. Nick can't tell if it was him or if it was the thug holding him.
The thug creeps and Nick struggles to breathe and the one holding him laughs. Only Renard is still. Silent. Waiting.
When the thug reaches for him Renard moves. Like a dancer he pivots and spins, but the violence is too brutal for any grace. His fists pound and blood spatters and in seconds a second man lies still on the ground and Renard stands straight once more.
He is barely breathing heavily. His face is hard as stone, and his nostrils are flared.
"You have no more choices. Let go of my Officer."
Nick feels a chill in his spine. Even held like this by the thug, Renard's voice is the most terrifying thing in the room. He's lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and all he can think of is that voice.
"Let him go." Renard's voice has dropped to a snarl. Three long strides and he is on them. The thug pushes Nick away, into the advancing captain. Renard uses Nick's momentum to push him to something resembling safety, behind Renard's back. Two more strides and he has caught the thug who hurt Nick.
Nick forces himself to watch as Renard coldly, methodically, beats the thug into unconciousness.
Renard calls it in, requesting an ambulance for Nick. The story they both stick to is a midnight rendevous with informants turning into a mugging gone wrong. The records on all three thugs helps the story along. The chill down Nick's spine stays with him through the medical check, through the trip to precinct and back home. It stays with him well into the night. He tells Juliette all of it, apart from the way he waited for the Wesen to show. He tells her about the chill in his spine and as he tells the story he gets hard. Harder and harder as he talked about Renard's voice and methodical violence.
He tells Juliette that too. He decided that if he had to keep the Grimm a secret, nothing else would be allowed to stay under the table. Juliette barely blinks. She knows his tendencies, his past, his desires. He'd told her about that fight at the office, how hard he'd gotten and how long it took him to settle down enough to leave with some semblance of dignity. He knows hers too, and after they fuck, hard and fast on the floor, she tells him that Renard is within the boundaries. They don't often allow it, but it has happened for both of them before. Juliette knows that she could rely on Nick's fidelity until the end, but the cost would never be worth it.
Not when he'd come home to her, fucked open and sated and full of love for her. Particularly since Renard piqued her own interest.
Three days later, with her words burning in his ear, her teethmarks on his shoulders and the burn of her fingers in his ass, Nick walks into Renard's office. He doesn't wait to be acknowledged.
"Respectfully, Sir, what the fuck was that the other night?" Nick's head is still sore where the wound is healing and he presses his fingertips to the scabbed over wound. "Exactly what the fuck are you doing?"
Renard recaps his pen and places it on the desk. "What I was doing was none of your concern Burkhardt. None." Renard's tone brooks no argument and it's only under threat of forced leave for insubordination that Nick lets the matter drop. For now.
After his shift he sends Juliette a quick text.
"Love you. Going to Renard's, not sure when I'll be home."
Juliette returns "love you, play safe".
Nick turns his phone off.
If he had known that the captain was going out for dinner, he'd have chosen a better place to wait. As it is he's reduced to skulking in the alleyway waiting for Renard to arrive. When he does Nick is hungry, angry and impatient. Which is why he decides to simply get in the elevator with Renard. Why bother with anything else?
"Burkhardt." Renard's tone is part question, part warning. "I didn't know you had any reason to be in this building at this time of night." he pressess the button for his floor.
"You know why I'm here Renard." Nick conciously drops the title. He waits as silent as Renard while the elevator rises. Renard raises an eyebrow as Nick follows him to his door. "I need to know exactly what it was I walked in on."
Renard sighed. "Get used to disappointment Burkhardt." His apartment is dimly lit, with dark furniture. Renard heads to the kitchen. "Is there anything else, Officer?" his voice is dry.
"I will not let you endanger this city Renard." Nick's voice is firm, uninflected. Businesslike. Renard's back stiffens. "I will not let you betray us." Renard turns and Nick is reminded of that brutal swiftness in the abandoned warehouse, and earlier, in the office. Renard takes a few steps and stands very close to Nick, and looks him in the eye.
"Never doubt my commitment to this city, or to the people in it. Ever." Renard's voice is low, deadly. "Get out."
Nick tilts his chin up. "No. I watched you beat three men, almost to death, with knuckledusters, in a warehouse in the same area where I was nearly beaten to death in a cagefight! I am not going to turn tail Renard." Nick had stepped forward as he spoke. The two men were nearly touching. "Threaten me, hurt me, whatever. I will keep coming until I know."
Renard looked down into Nick's face. He'd seen him work often enough to know that he would indeed keep coming, keep digging. Renard put his hand into his pocket and took out the knuckledusters, running his fingers over the bronze.
"Do you know why I carry these Burkhardt?" Nick shook his head. If he was confused about the change in subject he didn't show it. "It's because when I need to make a statement, respond to something, it needs to make an impression." Renard watched Nick's eyes, watched him fixate onto the brass, onto Renard's fingers smoothing over the metal. "These were my mother's. She was a champion lady boxer in her day, but every time she went out, some clown would challenge her to a fight. So she carried these. With these she taught the world to let her be. They learnt, soon enough, but she carried them with her until she decided they were better off with me." Renard smiled then, fleetingly, as his eyes narrowed and his mouth firmed. "I will not allow some fool's son to come to my town and use his father's name to further contribute to social decay. His father had asked me to keep an eye on him, and his friends. He had thought this meant some hold over me." Renard leaned forward, breath ghosting over Nick's cheek. "No-one has power over me Burkhardt, least of all you."
Renard pulled back and looked at Nick's face. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his pupils wide. His mouth was slightly open and Renard finally noticed the bite mark diappearing into the undone collared shirt. He tilted his head, remembering the response Nick had displayed after the incident in the precinct offices. He tested his hypothesis and brought his hand, with the brass kncuckles fitting perfectly onto his long fingers, up to press against Nick's jaw. His thumb pressed against Nick's chin and his fingers lay on his cheek, next to his mouth. He could smell the tang of the brass.
"Does Juliette know where you are, Nick?" Renard's voice was low, mocking. "Does she know what you're doing?"
Nick turned his head, minutely. A fraction. Enough to tilt his world. His lips rested on Renard's fingers and he whispered "Yes" into the brass.
Renard blinked. Then pushed Nick back into the cabinetry, hard enough to rattle the glass inside. His thumb pushed between Nick's lips slightly as he pulled Nick up to face him. Nick smiled, a crooked kind of grin.
"She said to play safe, and wishes she were here."
Renard steps back. This was not something he expected. Nick watches him, that crooked smile not wavering in the slightest. Instead he tilts his chin up, bares his throat, submission and challenge and defiance.
They come together in a clash of teeth and tongues and Nick moans shamelessly. Renard is silent but no less demonstrative. He bites and licks and eventually pushes Nick into the wall, pinning him there. He's breathing heavily as he reaches a hand up to Nick's mouth again. With no hesitation Nick opens his mouth and sucks at Renard's fingers. The scent of brass fills his senses.
With Nick silenced, mostly, Renard begins to speak.
"Yes Burkhardt, yes. How long have you wanted this? How long Nick?" Renard's voice is low, and dirty. "The way you're sucking my fingers is obscene, you've done this before haven't you?"
Nick pulls Renard's finger from his mouth, then licks a long strip up his palm. "Fuck yes I've done this before." He pants wetly into Renard's hand and reaches out to pull Renard closer. They push together and Nick moans wildly. "fuck, Renard, I..." Renard kisses him again before he can speak.
"Get on your knees Burkhardt." Renard seems less breathless now, more controlled. "I want you to open your mouth and suck my cock like you've been waiting your whole life for it." Nick is already undoing Renard's fly. "I want to fuck your face."
Nick rests his head on the other man's thigh for a moment, his moan loud and shocked and pleading. Renard's voice, Renard saying that, it's driving electricity through his nerves. His hips thrust into the useless friction of his pants. He's been hard since they got in the elevator.
Renard smiles. Then buries his hands in Nicks hair and pushes the tip of his cock into Nick's mouth. The wet heat, the slide of his cockhead over tongue makes Nick moan and the reverbration makes Renard's fingers tighten.
"Yes Nick, that's it, open your mouth and suck my cock. Wider Nick, wider, I want to feel your tongue and your teeth and the back of your throat." Renard's voice is rough, and his breathing is heavy. "That's it Nick, that's beautiful, just like that you cock-sucker, fucking suck it." Nick moans louder. "I want to fuck your face, your throat. Tu me folle ma amour, sucer."
Nick's breath stutters and he can feel the cold of the brass against his scalp where Renard's long fingers are pressing hard. He can"t speak French but he knows what Renard is asking for. He opens his mouth and swallow Renard's cock, laving it with his tongue, feeling it push into the back of his throat. He doesn't even try to breathe around the thickness of it. He pulls back and breathes deep and swallows it down once more. He lets Renard take hold and thrust into his mouth, picking up the pace until he's fucking into Nick's face. Renard keeps up a steady stream of filthy sounding french until he comes, balls deep in Nick.
As Renard slides free he gently pats Nick's hair, smoothing it down. A drop of come leaks onto Nick's lip and he darts out his tongue to taste the flaccid tip of Renard's cock. Renard smiles and pulls Nick to his feet, leading him down the hallway with one hand, brass knuckles warm and hard against Nick's nape. He shivers and his cock leaks.