"Billie's not here." Green Day, Fink/Mike, NC-17
Title: Billie's not here.
Fandom: Green Day/Network/Foxboro
Pairing: Fink/Mike, Mentioned Billie/Mike and Rev/Mike
Rating: NC-17 / FRAO
Prompt: 7. Non-con. My table.
Warning: Non-con. Slash. Lots of language. Alter-ego!Billie
A/n: I personally don't think it's NC-17. Then again, I've never rated anything NC-17. At least, not that I can remember. But there's lots of language and it's dark. So I figured it couldn't hurt.
D/c: Not true.
I felt like being dark.
Enjoy. :)
- -
“Billie, what are you doing?” Mike asked, suddenly looking up from his notebook to see Billie Joe stalking at him with a dark look in his eyes.
“M’not Billie.” He laughed coldly. Mike narrowed his eyes. He could smell the alcohol on Billie’s breath from this distance.
“How much did you drink?” Mike glanced to the closed door and sighed. “I’m not in the mood to play, Bill.” Billie stepped into his space and straddled his lap on the chair, knocking the notebook to the floor. Mike looked up into the dark eyes and frowned.
“Told you boy, I’m not Billie.” He sneered. Mike could see his eyes glazed over. He sighed, giving in to the boy’s games.
“Who are you then?” Billie grinned, showing off his glinting teeth and Mike felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
“Who do you want me to be tonight?” He asked. His voice shifted to a higher pitch as he threw his head back. He threw on an accent and Mike watched him fall into his holy personification. “I can be your savior. I can help you redeem yourself in the eyes of the good lord of Lush. He ain’t too pleased with your lack of dedication.” The singer poked him in the stomach as if to point out that there was no liquor in him. Then he leaned forward enough to darken his face and Mike had to force back a shiver as his voice got cold and low. “Or I can be your fucking devil. You always were a dirty little prick, even though you never show it. You can’t hide it from a demon.” He sneered. “I can fucking see right through you.”
Mike looked away, feeling his face heat up. He knew it was a bad idea to let Billie be alone with him when he had this much liquor in him. It never turned out well for anyone. But unfortunately for him, Billie knew how to get his blood stirring.
“Billie, I don’t wanna play tonight.” Billie leaned back on Mike’s lap and slapped him across the face. Mike’s eyes went wide and his hand went up to his stinging cheek. “What the fuck?” He demanded. The smaller man crawled off of his lap and stood before him, shaking with some unknown rage.
“I fucking told you, you cunt. I’m not Billie. And you just woke up the monster. Congratu-fucking-lations. You just sent away your savior.” Mike didn’t like the sound of that. He shivered, watching those angry, bright green eyes undress him mentally. “Hope you like Hell.” He growled, reaching forward and dragging Mike from the chair.
It never failed to surprise Mike when the front man put all of his strength out there. He was much stronger than he looked. And Mike knew better than to fuck with him when he was angry. Another slap across Mike’s red cheek had him glaring down at the shorter man.
“What’s my name, bitch?” He asked, clearly ready to hit Mike again. Mike ground his teeth together, knowing he couldn’t win this one.
“Fink.” He answered spitefully.
“What was that?” The singer held a hand to his ear, pretending he didn’t hear him.
“You’re Fink.” Mike growled out.
“Damn straight. And what’re you gonna do?” The front man looked up into Mike’s eyes although Mike was staring at the wall. Mike swallowed a retort and answered as humbly as he could.
“What do you want me to do?” Fink growled, well aware that Mike was humoring him. He pushed Mike hard enough that he stumbled and barely caught himself on the chair.
“I want you on the floor, that’s what I want.” Mike sat on the floor and watched suspiciously as Fink tore off his shirt.
“Billie, you’re really drunk, this is a bad id-” Fink knocked him backwards by pouncing on him. He immediately pinned the bassist’s arms painfully to the floor. He kissed him hard with rough lips and pulled back to look over Mike’s face.
“Lesson one, Stretch. I’m in charge. You fuck with the bull, be ready for the horns.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, holding Mike’s wrists above his head with one hand. Mike’s eyes went wide and he squirmed under the drunken man, unsure what he was planning.
The predatorial man flicked the blade open and held it to Mike’s neck. The bassist took shallow breaths and stared up into the evil eyes.
“Billie’s not here, he can’t save you. You are mine.” Mike about had a heart attack when the cold metal touched his skin. Fink slid the blade down the front of Mike’s shirt, splitting the fabric. He cut the sleeves and pulled the scrapped cloth from Mike’s body. Mike was smart enough not to protest.
Fink was straddling Mike and he leaned down to bite at his collarbone. Mike groaned as his body twitched under the hot lips. Then the teeth came. He flinched upon feeling them sink into his skin, just hard enough to hurt.
“Not so rough,” Mike pleaded. Fink pulled back, shaking his head.
“You don’t get it, do ya? I’m not Billie Joe. I’m not gonna stop. I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I want because you’re my toy tonight.” Mike cried out when he leaned back down and sunk his teeth into his shoulder.
Mike wasn’t aware of the rope binding his wrists until he felt two hands rubbing down his chest, digging angry fingernail lines as they went. He arched his back, trying to avoid the pain, but it didn’t help. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the dark look in the singer’s eyes. Billie Joe was firm, the Rev was gentle, but Fink was just nasty. And he’d never had the guts to watch as Fink played with him. He just took the torture until the dark-haired man came and left him with a hard-on and cum on his chest. One thing about Fink that Mike had appreciated, was that the man never degraded him too terribly.
Mike immediately took back his thoughts when Fink tugged the jeans from his thin hips. Mike sprang his eyes open to see Billie Joe’s naked body with Fink’s angry eyes. And he looked down to find himself in his boxers. A sinister smirk crawled over Fink’s face and Mike knew that tonight was different. And when Fink flipped Mike over without any effort at all, Mike knew that he wasn’t Billie Joe any more.
“Look at you shaking.” Fink laughed, tearing Mike’s boxers away from him. Mike shivered as his little bit of protection was taken. “You think you know what I’m gonna do?” Mike said nothing and Fink’s hand grabbed his hair roughly. “Answer me!” He demanded.
“You’re gonna fuck me, aren’t you?” Mike choked out, feeling the blood being cut off from his hands as his arms were held at an awkward angle above his head.
“Damn right, I’m gonna fuck you.” Mike was scared to say the least. Not only was he completely at this demon’s mercy, but he couldn’t fight back because he was still he best friend. “Scared?” He hissed in Mike’s ear, taking the sensitive skin roughly between his teeth. Mike nodded without saying anything. He flinched when he heard the knife flick open again and his body jerked when he felt the cold metal touch his back.
“Please don’t cut me.” He begged, laying his forehead on the floor. That dark voice rang into his ear and the hot breath clouded his mind. Mike cursed himself for his stomach flipping at that.
“Why shouldn’t I?” He pulled back though and instead cut the rope holding Mike’s wrists. Mike thought maybe he was getting his hands back, but Fink just lengthened the space between his wrists. “Up on your hands and knees like the bitch you are.” Fink ordered. Mike’s eyes stung with tears, but he did as he was told, bracing himself against the hard floor.
Fink kicked Mike’s legs further apart and Mike could feel Fink settling behind him and he couldn’t stop the tears from spilling out over his eyes. Why the fuck would Billie ever even think of doing this? Billie was in there somewhere and it killed Mike to just let the man walk all over him, but he knew he couldn’t stop it.
“Fink...” He murmured, unsure of what to say, but needed to say something.
“Yes?” Fink asked with false sweetness.
“Why’re you doing this?” Mike knew he was asking Billie, not Fink. Unfortunately, Fink knew that as well.
“Because I’m not Billie Boy.” Mike felt the hard dick against his ass and more tears fell. He could feel himself shaking and was ashamed. Billie wouldn’t hurt him... would Fink? “Bitch-boy Billie takes it, doesn’t he?” Fink demanded, raking his nails down Mike’s back hard. Mike bit his lip and nodded. “You’ve never let him top, have you? Have you?” Fink was yelling at Mike and he shook his head.
“You-he never asked.” Mike tried to defend, but knew that Fink wasn’t hearing it.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you?” Fink’s hand was pulling at his hair again. “I am not Billie. And I’m not gonna take your shit.” Mike swallowed as his head was released.
“Please, don’t fucking do this.” Mike pleaded, feeling his muscles tense. “Please, I’m sorry. Please don’t do this...” Mike’s guts twisted with the danger he knew was behind him. Fink let out a cruel laugh and Mike ground his teeth in defeat.
“Begging like a true virgin. Think Billie’ll be pissed when I take his prize?” Mike let out a tiny sob, knowing that Fink was extending his torture as long as he could to fray Mike’s nerves. And it was working.
“Please...” Mike tried again, terrified of what Fink might do, knowing that Mike couldn’t fight him.
“Beg me again and I’ll drive you so far into Hell that Twitch himself couldn’t save you.” Mike felt Fink position himself and knew that he had no chance. “Now tell me Michael, what’s my name?” Mike’s cheeks were soaked with his salty tears and he was barely holding himself up on shaking arms.
“F-Fink.” Fink pushed into him with no prep and Mike shouted out in pain. A whole new wave of tears fell as his muscles seared with the heat that shouldn’t be there. He felt pressure shoot up his spine. Fink wasn’t even kind enough to stop and let him adjust to the feeling. He moved, letting Mike’s tight, protesting muscles pull him in deeper. Fink’s member felt longer than it looked, filling Mike past the pressure point. He cried as Fink’s hands squeezed his hips tight and his bony hips hit against his skin in a quick and steady rhythm.
Fink was watching Mike’s body shake and jolt with each thrust and it fueled his anger and lust. He felt the pressure and heat rising in him with each miniscule movement. The constant humming shake of Michael echoed through his muscles and surrounded Fink’s length. He clung tighter to Mike’s body and thrust hard, trying to feel as much of Mike’s inner heat as he could.
When Fink came, it was liquid lava, burning the inside of Mike’s raw muscles with hellfire. Mike cried freely, knowing that he couldn’t stop the tears if he tried. Fink pulled out finally, dripping the devil’s seed on Mike’s legs and the cold floor. Mike didn’t even flinch when Fink slapped his ass hard. He collapsed, arms painfully crushed beneath him. Mike could hear Fink putting his clothes back on and was soon flipped back over. He refused to look at the singer’s face as he slit the rope between his arms.
Mike could still smell the cheap liquor on his breath and it made him want to vomit. He couldn’t even register what had just happened. All he knew was that he hurt and he felt hate and shame.
“You know, with proper praise and practice the Gods of Lush protect the righteous.” Mike couldn’t believe his ears. He looked up into the soft hazel eyes and cried even harder, if that was possible. That soft, soothing accent rang into his head and he let the gentle hands slip his boxers over his legs. “S’what happens when temptation leads you astray.” Mike curled up on himself, hands covering his face, rope still cutting into his wrists. This wasn’t happening. Billie couldn’t just shift from the devil to the saint that fast. It was wrong.
“Go away.” He demanded, confused and hurt.
“Now, now. You’re hurt and I’m gonna fix you up right. The demon’s been banished. He ain’t gonna hurt you anymore. Let ol’ Twitchy heal ya.” Mike shook his head violently.
”No, no... You can’t do that.” He sobbed, still not believing that his best friend and lover could hurt him so deeply.
“Why on God’s green Earth can’t the Rev help? I ain’t gonna hurt you, Sugarlips. I’m gonna fix what the devil broke.”
“Go away...” Mike begged, still crying, feeling his muscles aching already.
“Babycakes? What’s wrong? I’m not the Finkster, you know that, don’tcha?” Mike refused to uncurl, even feeling those soothing hands rubbing over his bruised shoulders and back.
“Billie!” He yelled at the Rev, finally tearing his bright blue eyes from his palms and sending an angry glare at the dark-haired man.
“Billie ain’t here...” The singer said carefully. Mike smelled the alcohol and knew it was true.
“Leave.” He demanded. He watched the regretful look cross over Billie/Twitch/Fink’s eyes and it tore his heart in two. “Tell the devil that he’s fucked with me for the last time, and if he ever comes back, I’ll fucking kill him.” He growled, playing into whatever game was going on.
“Sure thing,” Strychnine murmured sadly.
“Know what? Fucking never mind, I’ll leave. Tell Billie,” Mike spit his name. “The next time he wants to top, all he has to do is fucking ask.” Mike shook his head and stood on shaky legs. The smaller man watched as Mike stepped into his jeans and picked up the scrap of his shirt and left he room without looking back. And the good reverend shed a tear for the devil’s cruelty and his angel’s pain.
- -
Hmm? Whatcha think?
Check my last entry for more avatars. There are some lovely slashy ones.
-J X
Fandom: Green Day/Network/Foxboro
Pairing: Fink/Mike, Mentioned Billie/Mike and Rev/Mike
Rating: NC-17 / FRAO
Prompt: 7. Non-con. My table.
Warning: Non-con. Slash. Lots of language. Alter-ego!Billie
A/n: I personally don't think it's NC-17. Then again, I've never rated anything NC-17. At least, not that I can remember. But there's lots of language and it's dark. So I figured it couldn't hurt.
D/c: Not true.
I felt like being dark.
Enjoy. :)
- -
“Billie, what are you doing?” Mike asked, suddenly looking up from his notebook to see Billie Joe stalking at him with a dark look in his eyes.
“M’not Billie.” He laughed coldly. Mike narrowed his eyes. He could smell the alcohol on Billie’s breath from this distance.
“How much did you drink?” Mike glanced to the closed door and sighed. “I’m not in the mood to play, Bill.” Billie stepped into his space and straddled his lap on the chair, knocking the notebook to the floor. Mike looked up into the dark eyes and frowned.
“Told you boy, I’m not Billie.” He sneered. Mike could see his eyes glazed over. He sighed, giving in to the boy’s games.
“Who are you then?” Billie grinned, showing off his glinting teeth and Mike felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
“Who do you want me to be tonight?” He asked. His voice shifted to a higher pitch as he threw his head back. He threw on an accent and Mike watched him fall into his holy personification. “I can be your savior. I can help you redeem yourself in the eyes of the good lord of Lush. He ain’t too pleased with your lack of dedication.” The singer poked him in the stomach as if to point out that there was no liquor in him. Then he leaned forward enough to darken his face and Mike had to force back a shiver as his voice got cold and low. “Or I can be your fucking devil. You always were a dirty little prick, even though you never show it. You can’t hide it from a demon.” He sneered. “I can fucking see right through you.”
Mike looked away, feeling his face heat up. He knew it was a bad idea to let Billie be alone with him when he had this much liquor in him. It never turned out well for anyone. But unfortunately for him, Billie knew how to get his blood stirring.
“Billie, I don’t wanna play tonight.” Billie leaned back on Mike’s lap and slapped him across the face. Mike’s eyes went wide and his hand went up to his stinging cheek. “What the fuck?” He demanded. The smaller man crawled off of his lap and stood before him, shaking with some unknown rage.
“I fucking told you, you cunt. I’m not Billie. And you just woke up the monster. Congratu-fucking-lations. You just sent away your savior.” Mike didn’t like the sound of that. He shivered, watching those angry, bright green eyes undress him mentally. “Hope you like Hell.” He growled, reaching forward and dragging Mike from the chair.
It never failed to surprise Mike when the front man put all of his strength out there. He was much stronger than he looked. And Mike knew better than to fuck with him when he was angry. Another slap across Mike’s red cheek had him glaring down at the shorter man.
“What’s my name, bitch?” He asked, clearly ready to hit Mike again. Mike ground his teeth together, knowing he couldn’t win this one.
“Fink.” He answered spitefully.
“What was that?” The singer held a hand to his ear, pretending he didn’t hear him.
“You’re Fink.” Mike growled out.
“Damn straight. And what’re you gonna do?” The front man looked up into Mike’s eyes although Mike was staring at the wall. Mike swallowed a retort and answered as humbly as he could.
“What do you want me to do?” Fink growled, well aware that Mike was humoring him. He pushed Mike hard enough that he stumbled and barely caught himself on the chair.
“I want you on the floor, that’s what I want.” Mike sat on the floor and watched suspiciously as Fink tore off his shirt.
“Billie, you’re really drunk, this is a bad id-” Fink knocked him backwards by pouncing on him. He immediately pinned the bassist’s arms painfully to the floor. He kissed him hard with rough lips and pulled back to look over Mike’s face.
“Lesson one, Stretch. I’m in charge. You fuck with the bull, be ready for the horns.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, holding Mike’s wrists above his head with one hand. Mike’s eyes went wide and he squirmed under the drunken man, unsure what he was planning.
The predatorial man flicked the blade open and held it to Mike’s neck. The bassist took shallow breaths and stared up into the evil eyes.
“Billie’s not here, he can’t save you. You are mine.” Mike about had a heart attack when the cold metal touched his skin. Fink slid the blade down the front of Mike’s shirt, splitting the fabric. He cut the sleeves and pulled the scrapped cloth from Mike’s body. Mike was smart enough not to protest.
Fink was straddling Mike and he leaned down to bite at his collarbone. Mike groaned as his body twitched under the hot lips. Then the teeth came. He flinched upon feeling them sink into his skin, just hard enough to hurt.
“Not so rough,” Mike pleaded. Fink pulled back, shaking his head.
“You don’t get it, do ya? I’m not Billie Joe. I’m not gonna stop. I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I want because you’re my toy tonight.” Mike cried out when he leaned back down and sunk his teeth into his shoulder.
Mike wasn’t aware of the rope binding his wrists until he felt two hands rubbing down his chest, digging angry fingernail lines as they went. He arched his back, trying to avoid the pain, but it didn’t help. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the dark look in the singer’s eyes. Billie Joe was firm, the Rev was gentle, but Fink was just nasty. And he’d never had the guts to watch as Fink played with him. He just took the torture until the dark-haired man came and left him with a hard-on and cum on his chest. One thing about Fink that Mike had appreciated, was that the man never degraded him too terribly.
Mike immediately took back his thoughts when Fink tugged the jeans from his thin hips. Mike sprang his eyes open to see Billie Joe’s naked body with Fink’s angry eyes. And he looked down to find himself in his boxers. A sinister smirk crawled over Fink’s face and Mike knew that tonight was different. And when Fink flipped Mike over without any effort at all, Mike knew that he wasn’t Billie Joe any more.
“Look at you shaking.” Fink laughed, tearing Mike’s boxers away from him. Mike shivered as his little bit of protection was taken. “You think you know what I’m gonna do?” Mike said nothing and Fink’s hand grabbed his hair roughly. “Answer me!” He demanded.
“You’re gonna fuck me, aren’t you?” Mike choked out, feeling the blood being cut off from his hands as his arms were held at an awkward angle above his head.
“Damn right, I’m gonna fuck you.” Mike was scared to say the least. Not only was he completely at this demon’s mercy, but he couldn’t fight back because he was still he best friend. “Scared?” He hissed in Mike’s ear, taking the sensitive skin roughly between his teeth. Mike nodded without saying anything. He flinched when he heard the knife flick open again and his body jerked when he felt the cold metal touch his back.
“Please don’t cut me.” He begged, laying his forehead on the floor. That dark voice rang into his ear and the hot breath clouded his mind. Mike cursed himself for his stomach flipping at that.
“Why shouldn’t I?” He pulled back though and instead cut the rope holding Mike’s wrists. Mike thought maybe he was getting his hands back, but Fink just lengthened the space between his wrists. “Up on your hands and knees like the bitch you are.” Fink ordered. Mike’s eyes stung with tears, but he did as he was told, bracing himself against the hard floor.
Fink kicked Mike’s legs further apart and Mike could feel Fink settling behind him and he couldn’t stop the tears from spilling out over his eyes. Why the fuck would Billie ever even think of doing this? Billie was in there somewhere and it killed Mike to just let the man walk all over him, but he knew he couldn’t stop it.
“Fink...” He murmured, unsure of what to say, but needed to say something.
“Yes?” Fink asked with false sweetness.
“Why’re you doing this?” Mike knew he was asking Billie, not Fink. Unfortunately, Fink knew that as well.
“Because I’m not Billie Boy.” Mike felt the hard dick against his ass and more tears fell. He could feel himself shaking and was ashamed. Billie wouldn’t hurt him... would Fink? “Bitch-boy Billie takes it, doesn’t he?” Fink demanded, raking his nails down Mike’s back hard. Mike bit his lip and nodded. “You’ve never let him top, have you? Have you?” Fink was yelling at Mike and he shook his head.
“You-he never asked.” Mike tried to defend, but knew that Fink wasn’t hearing it.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you?” Fink’s hand was pulling at his hair again. “I am not Billie. And I’m not gonna take your shit.” Mike swallowed as his head was released.
“Please, don’t fucking do this.” Mike pleaded, feeling his muscles tense. “Please, I’m sorry. Please don’t do this...” Mike’s guts twisted with the danger he knew was behind him. Fink let out a cruel laugh and Mike ground his teeth in defeat.
“Begging like a true virgin. Think Billie’ll be pissed when I take his prize?” Mike let out a tiny sob, knowing that Fink was extending his torture as long as he could to fray Mike’s nerves. And it was working.
“Please...” Mike tried again, terrified of what Fink might do, knowing that Mike couldn’t fight him.
“Beg me again and I’ll drive you so far into Hell that Twitch himself couldn’t save you.” Mike felt Fink position himself and knew that he had no chance. “Now tell me Michael, what’s my name?” Mike’s cheeks were soaked with his salty tears and he was barely holding himself up on shaking arms.
“F-Fink.” Fink pushed into him with no prep and Mike shouted out in pain. A whole new wave of tears fell as his muscles seared with the heat that shouldn’t be there. He felt pressure shoot up his spine. Fink wasn’t even kind enough to stop and let him adjust to the feeling. He moved, letting Mike’s tight, protesting muscles pull him in deeper. Fink’s member felt longer than it looked, filling Mike past the pressure point. He cried as Fink’s hands squeezed his hips tight and his bony hips hit against his skin in a quick and steady rhythm.
Fink was watching Mike’s body shake and jolt with each thrust and it fueled his anger and lust. He felt the pressure and heat rising in him with each miniscule movement. The constant humming shake of Michael echoed through his muscles and surrounded Fink’s length. He clung tighter to Mike’s body and thrust hard, trying to feel as much of Mike’s inner heat as he could.
When Fink came, it was liquid lava, burning the inside of Mike’s raw muscles with hellfire. Mike cried freely, knowing that he couldn’t stop the tears if he tried. Fink pulled out finally, dripping the devil’s seed on Mike’s legs and the cold floor. Mike didn’t even flinch when Fink slapped his ass hard. He collapsed, arms painfully crushed beneath him. Mike could hear Fink putting his clothes back on and was soon flipped back over. He refused to look at the singer’s face as he slit the rope between his arms.
Mike could still smell the cheap liquor on his breath and it made him want to vomit. He couldn’t even register what had just happened. All he knew was that he hurt and he felt hate and shame.
“You know, with proper praise and practice the Gods of Lush protect the righteous.” Mike couldn’t believe his ears. He looked up into the soft hazel eyes and cried even harder, if that was possible. That soft, soothing accent rang into his head and he let the gentle hands slip his boxers over his legs. “S’what happens when temptation leads you astray.” Mike curled up on himself, hands covering his face, rope still cutting into his wrists. This wasn’t happening. Billie couldn’t just shift from the devil to the saint that fast. It was wrong.
“Go away.” He demanded, confused and hurt.
“Now, now. You’re hurt and I’m gonna fix you up right. The demon’s been banished. He ain’t gonna hurt you anymore. Let ol’ Twitchy heal ya.” Mike shook his head violently.
”No, no... You can’t do that.” He sobbed, still not believing that his best friend and lover could hurt him so deeply.
“Why on God’s green Earth can’t the Rev help? I ain’t gonna hurt you, Sugarlips. I’m gonna fix what the devil broke.”
“Go away...” Mike begged, still crying, feeling his muscles aching already.
“Babycakes? What’s wrong? I’m not the Finkster, you know that, don’tcha?” Mike refused to uncurl, even feeling those soothing hands rubbing over his bruised shoulders and back.
“Billie!” He yelled at the Rev, finally tearing his bright blue eyes from his palms and sending an angry glare at the dark-haired man.
“Billie ain’t here...” The singer said carefully. Mike smelled the alcohol and knew it was true.
“Leave.” He demanded. He watched the regretful look cross over Billie/Twitch/Fink’s eyes and it tore his heart in two. “Tell the devil that he’s fucked with me for the last time, and if he ever comes back, I’ll fucking kill him.” He growled, playing into whatever game was going on.
“Sure thing,” Strychnine murmured sadly.
“Know what? Fucking never mind, I’ll leave. Tell Billie,” Mike spit his name. “The next time he wants to top, all he has to do is fucking ask.” Mike shook his head and stood on shaky legs. The smaller man watched as Mike stepped into his jeans and picked up the scrap of his shirt and left he room without looking back. And the good reverend shed a tear for the devil’s cruelty and his angel’s pain.
- -
Hmm? Whatcha think?
Check my last entry for more avatars. There are some lovely slashy ones.
-J X