Fast Eddies
This is NOT fanfiction, but it is m/m.
If you liked my writing then have a read.
Title Fast Eddies
Rating Mature
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty Eight
I check the address against the one I have stored in my cell. Mike shifts in the passenger seat of the car, anxious to get to the action. I'd told him not to come, that it was my fight and I'd do it alone; but he had simply snorted and taken my car keys. Butterflies attack my stomach, biting in a way I didn't think they could. What the hell am I thinking? This isn't me, I'm the pacifist, the person eager to diffuse any situation. It's going to go horribly wrong, what if he pulls a knife on us, or worse, a gun. The guy is a fucking psycho, who knows what he is capable of. Brandan had wondered why I wanted the address, but hadn't asked too many questions. He'd given me a hushed 'good luck' before Joe had come yelling back into work. I'm sure he would have warned me against it if he though something really terrible could happen to me, wouldn't he?
'So come on then, lets get going, don't want to keep him waiting,' Mike suggests, kicking open the car door eagerly.
'He doesn't know we're coming,' I reply as I heave myself out heavily, not relishing the thought of the confrontation a single bit now it's so close.
Closing the door I lock my car before heading for the steps to the apartment block, one similar to Joe's. Although I guess quite a lot of the buildings were built around the same time and have the same architectural look. Once inside I check the numbers and find I have to walk to the fourth floor. That isn't going to make for an easy escape if it goes tits up. Fuck this is a bad idea, why did I ever think of it? And why the hell did Mike have to back me up? But it's too late to turn back now and I have to do this for Joe, Mike is right, if Milo continues to terrorise him this way then there is only a slim chance for us. I won't be able to stop him from clamming up and pushing me away until I'm completely out of his life. Hopefully Mike's plan will work, although thankfully I can't see it making things worse if it backfires.
Jogging up the steps I'm not out of breath as I reach the floor, too pumped with adrenaline and fear to register anything physically. Striding to the door I knock on it swiftly to stop myself from backing out. Mike joins me at my side a fraction before the door is opened, revealing the intimidating man, shirtless, a plastering of tattoos over his torso.
'What the fuck do you want?' He asks, blue eyes narrowing as he holds the door loosely in his hands, not even seeming the slightest bit phased by our unexpected appearance.
'I want you to stop bothering Joe,' I reply strongly, not a hint of the fear in my mind in my voice.
'Well that's not going to happen, so I suggest you go home to your mommy before I send you back crying,' he says coolly as he leans unconcernedly on the door, smirking at me with such a look of self satisfaction I want to slap it off his face.
'Oh, I think it is,' Mike says, bringing Milo's attention to him, standing tall and uncompromising a step behind me, 'you see, I've managed to dig up quiet the dirt on you after a few phone calls... it seems Joe isn't the first guy you've terrorised, only just as with him you've done your job well enough to keep them quiet... and I'm wondering, just how quiet.'
Milo's stance changes as he shifts his weight, looking less confident but a million times angrier.
'You don't know shit about me,' Milo snaps, eyes closing over with purest belief in himself.
'Oh don't I?' Mike smirks, loving this way more than he should, 'Milo Ricci, born July twenty eighth, nineteen seventy six, which makes you quite the fucking cradle snatcher, to Maria and Bill Ricci. Your parents divorced when you were seven, leaving you to go live with your grandmother as neither of them wanted to fucking put up with you. Am I along the right lines here? You've had previous convictions for assault, but somehow you've kept your record clean for the past few years, although God knows it shouldn't be,' Mike pauses for a second, letting everything he's said sink in before continuing. 'My father has a fair few police connections I've taken advantage of and I happen to know there's a current investigation into your practices after the contested 'suicide' of a William Desoires...all it would take is a tip off, from names trusted like ours.'
Milo scowls, looking like a cornered animal, coiled ready to fight. His hand moves quickly, pulling the knife out of his pocket but for once I'm quicker. Grabbing hold of his arm I struggle to pin it to the door, stop him from attacking us with the blade.
'This really isn't sensible,' Mike says from behind me as I stare into the man's ice blue eyes, feeling myself fill, not with terror as I had expected, but rage. This knife has always been there, how long would it take him to use it on Joe? This needs to end, and it needs to end now. 'You stick one of us with that thing then you're going to jail for sure, we're not without influence, unlike the poor bastards you usually target.'
Milo starts to wriggle, but I keep twisting his wrist until the knife drops, clattering to the floor, signalling our victory. We're both breathing heavy with effort as I move back but now Milo's eyes don't fix on mine, instead dart to the side, looking for an exit, an escape from this. Stepping to the side I block any route, glaring at him.
'What do you want?' He asks, still light on his feet, but willing to listen if it is the only option.
'I fucking told you, I want you to leave Joe alone,' I spit, cutting in before Mike has a chance to talk. This is not his fight, this is for Joe and I am fucking fighting for him, 'I never want to hear from him that he's seen you, got a note from you or even a fucking call. I want you out of his life, for good.'
'And what if I don't?' He asks, as arrogant as ever, proud and disgusting in his look, although less confident.
I grab him by the throat, pushing him back against the door, closing my fingers over the soft skin just the way he had with Joe. He's scum, the lowest of the fucking low, picking on guys he knows he can hurt, knows he can control, people smaller than him with a quiet voice.
'If you fucking don't then I'm going to make sure you fucking can't,' I yell, so close to his face I actually feel him flinch.
'You wouldn't kill me,' he says finally, trying to seem confident although I can feel it waning.
'We don't have to kill you.' Mike interrupts, cool and calm behind me, my temper completely lost. 'We know people with more influence than you could even imagine. We can make you disappear by nothing more than lifting a phone.'
It's not something I would usually let be said, using the family wealth I hate so much to get one over on someone, but I don't care. I can use it to shoot him dead in the water, to make this man know he can't walk over people and get away with it for the whole of his life. My name is good and my family do have fucking money, Mike has more and his father has connections I couldn't even comprehend. He can't fuck with us the way he can others, and he needs to fucking know it. I tighten my grip even more so his face reddens as he gasps for breath, beseeching me with eyes I would never trust.
'Keep away from him, or I swear to fucking God you'll regret it,' I hiss, holding the chokehold a second more than I probably should before letting my hand drop.
He softly grips his own neck, coughing and falling limp against the wall. I stand there, looking at this disgusting man. I wouldn't regret fucking up his life, I would fucking relish it for all he has done to Joe, to the others before him. He's a cunt, one of the most calculating men I've ever met and I would celebrate seeing him burn.
Mike takes hold of my shoulder, having to physically pull me away from the doorway to the stairs. I want to make sure he leaves Joe alone, I want to make sure we never lay eyes on him again. Fuck, I don't want to even hear his name.
'Come on man, shake it off,' Mike encourages, hand still on my shoulder, squeezing it, 'fuck, I'm proud. I never thought I'd see you act like that.'
'I'd fucking kill him if I thought I'd get away with it,' I reply, joining my hands and cracking my knuckles to try and bring my heart rate down, which is pumping with adrenaline.
Mike doesn't say anything to this, simply walks me out of the apartment building to the car. I open the door and drop inside, ignoring all of the looks from passers by. Hopefully it will have worked, if not he could spin it any way he wanted and make Joe think I'm an absolute asshole, just the same as him; working on threats and violence. Please God have let this have worked. I couldn't bear to end up having him hate me.
*
I exhale deeply as I stand in front of Joe's door. All I had wanted was a quiet afternoon after the conflict with Milo, but Mike had made a point of re-telling the episode to everyone in our house, on separate occasions as well. They had all been immensely shocked that I'd acted the way I had, accusing Mike of elaborating the tale. In a way I'm glad they hadn't thought I'd done it, because it's not the way I am. Usually I'm the last to enter confrontation, not seek it out. Maybe, even if it gets back to Joe, he'll see I only did it to protect him. If there weren't a reason for that kind of behaviour then I would never have acted so terribly. I'm not going to tell him, I don't want him to know, I'm ashamed of the way I let Mike use our collective influence against him, the family fortune I've not admitted to one day possessing. Sure I've told Joe a little of my fathers company, but I've not told him anything of just how much I will be entitled to in the future. It would scare him off for sure, and I hope to God Milo hasn't figured that out to try and use it against me.
Steadying myself I knock on the door. Hopefully I wont feel any form of guilt at keeping this from him, I'm sure he'd be able to pick up on it instantly. He wouldn't link it with what I've done, but he could think I'm hiding something worse. There isn't an answer and I knock again, thoughts of Milo lost from my mind with the more present worry that Joe might not answer at all. God, it could have all been for nothing. Not that I would regret gaining Joe a quieter life, but it will be fucking unfair.
'Who is it?' Comes the voice that sends shivers up my spine. I don't even have to see him to want him, in every way possible.
'Ben,' I call, leaning a hand on the frame of the door, steadying myself as well as waiting.
It's opened a little, Joe peeking through the gap as though he didn't believe me. His eyes sweep over me before he opens it wider, letting me enter. Once inside he carefully shuts the door, and although he has let me in I can't help but notice the silence, and the lack of contact. I hate feeling this awkward around him, not when we'd managed to get past it. How can he let Milo do this to him?
'Had a good day at work?' I ask, trying to break the quiet which is hanging so heavy between us.
'It was okay, Brandan had a bug up his ass about something, couldn't sit still. It was driving me crazy,' he says, leaning on his table, not looking at me.
'So, uh...' I start, wanting to cut the chit chat and get straight to the point. If he's going to kick me out I'd rather he got it over and done with instead of keeping me hanging on out of politeness, 'I'm going to ask you straight, where do I stand?'
'You stand just as you ever did,' he says, still looking away, 'it's everything else which has changed.' He pushes himself away from the table, talking a slow step towards me, a shuffled step like his legs are stiff. He breathes slowly, a gentle exhalation which I feel on my face as he starts to lift his hand, pulling it back as if scalded before trying again, this time softly touching my face, the sensitive skin over the cut. I flinch at the unexpected pain of the contact and immediately I know I've done the wrong thing, his hand pulling back, eyes falling to the ground. 'I can't let you be hurt because of me, I can't let anyone else hurt because of me.'
Reaching forward for his falling hand I raise it again, this time to my lips, kissing his fingers, smelling the scent of oil with the skin so close to my nose. It overwhelms me nearly to the point of tears. I can't lose him, not like this.
'If you leave me I will hurt because of you, especially when the reason has nothing to do with us,' I say solemnly, keeping my hold on his hand, fingers working over his, begging him not to do this.
He looks up, green eyes torn with emotion he wont spill. I know Milo fucked with him last night, that his own actions shocked him. I completely understand why he wants to close himself off, but I'm not going to let him, won't let him hide back in the shell. Not only will I lose him, but he will lose that special part of himself he keeps hidden, and I won't let him force it any deeper into hiding.
'I know,' he sighs, stepping away, but leaving his hand in mine, 'I know I'm being ridiculous, but after everything with...' He cuts himself off, as though he was going to give too much away. 'I just want to forget about him and move on, but I can't when he's there all the fucking time.'
'Maybe he wont bother you again, last night could have shown him you've got too many people who care about you for him to get anywhere,' I suggest, not wanting to just admit my real reasoning behind this idea.
'I doubt it,' Joe says, shaking his head, 'he's too much of a dick.'
I try my luck and am amazed to find he lets me pull him to me, folding my arms around his back. He sinks into the hug, sagging against my body. In this embrace he doesn't protest any more, seems to just give in and accept I'm here. Maybe this is all I have to do in the future, the easiest way to win an argument.
'So am I allowed to stay?' I ask, kissing the side of his head.
'No,' he replies, and I tense until I feel him smile into my shoulder, 'we've got to go meet the others at the bar, we're both going.'
I smile, at this little show of warmth and humour, and also in happiness I'm not going to be shut out. I'm so glad I can't control the surge of mixed emotions, a tangle of joy, love and lust.
'So we're going straight out are we?' I ask, holding him tighter, letting my hands drop from his back to rest on his firm buttocks. I don't care if it's too soon after the rocky start, but I want him, I want him so much I can't take it.
'Getting ideas are you?' He returns, leaning his head back so he can look me fully in the eye, his darkening by the second. I can feel his breath across my lips, which makes them ache for a kiss, ache for the sweetness of his mouth.
'Oh, I don't know,' I reply, voice soft and low as I push him back against the counter, pressing my hips to his, 'might be.'
He makes the last move, violently crushing his lips to mine. His breath gushes into my mouth as his hands run up my shirt, short nails dragging down my back, making me hiss into the kiss at the delicious pain. There is no doubting the desperation in his want, and I find myself responding just as wildly, going straight for the button on his jeans. He kicks them off quickly, boxers following. My hands are on the back of his thighs, gripping them hard as I pick him up, pushing him back up onto the counter, his legs splayed wide, presenting his naked lower half to me in its full glory. I unbutton my jeans, hands fumbling in their haste, pushing the clothing down my thighs, releasing the erection which had been straining them.
There are no words spoken between us, only the communication of our bodies as I penetrate him. He grips my shoulders, body squirming so badly I have to grip his thighs harder to keep him up against the counter, panting at the strain, all my muscles quivering. I can taste the fire in his mouth, the heat of his body as we sweat in unison, straining for the same completion, the sating of the same burning need. He bites my neck, emitting noises I've never heard from his throat before, almost cries as I thrust hard, somehow managing to slip a hand between us and keep him on the counter. All I can feel is him, all I can smell is him. I'm locked in his body, reaching for everything and finding it all in this man. My orgasm takes me by surprise, making me cry out and clutch him harder to my chest, thighs quivering from the force of pure ecstasy so I nearly collapse under the weight of us both. I feel Joe come, whole body shuddering as he gasps and moans into my ear, riding out his pleasure and stimulating me more.
We fall sated against each other and I hold him softer, but just as desperately. I love him, I love this man who is clinging to me, trembling against me. Still we don't talk, nothing our mouths can say our bodies already haven't, but I feel a butterfly soft kiss pressed to my neck, one which lingers. My fingers flex on the skin of his back, his muscle shifting beneath it. We couldn't lose this, it's too strong, in both of us.
If you liked my writing then have a read.
Title Fast Eddies
Rating Mature
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty Eight
I check the address against the one I have stored in my cell. Mike shifts in the passenger seat of the car, anxious to get to the action. I'd told him not to come, that it was my fight and I'd do it alone; but he had simply snorted and taken my car keys. Butterflies attack my stomach, biting in a way I didn't think they could. What the hell am I thinking? This isn't me, I'm the pacifist, the person eager to diffuse any situation. It's going to go horribly wrong, what if he pulls a knife on us, or worse, a gun. The guy is a fucking psycho, who knows what he is capable of. Brandan had wondered why I wanted the address, but hadn't asked too many questions. He'd given me a hushed 'good luck' before Joe had come yelling back into work. I'm sure he would have warned me against it if he though something really terrible could happen to me, wouldn't he?
'So come on then, lets get going, don't want to keep him waiting,' Mike suggests, kicking open the car door eagerly.
'He doesn't know we're coming,' I reply as I heave myself out heavily, not relishing the thought of the confrontation a single bit now it's so close.
Closing the door I lock my car before heading for the steps to the apartment block, one similar to Joe's. Although I guess quite a lot of the buildings were built around the same time and have the same architectural look. Once inside I check the numbers and find I have to walk to the fourth floor. That isn't going to make for an easy escape if it goes tits up. Fuck this is a bad idea, why did I ever think of it? And why the hell did Mike have to back me up? But it's too late to turn back now and I have to do this for Joe, Mike is right, if Milo continues to terrorise him this way then there is only a slim chance for us. I won't be able to stop him from clamming up and pushing me away until I'm completely out of his life. Hopefully Mike's plan will work, although thankfully I can't see it making things worse if it backfires.
Jogging up the steps I'm not out of breath as I reach the floor, too pumped with adrenaline and fear to register anything physically. Striding to the door I knock on it swiftly to stop myself from backing out. Mike joins me at my side a fraction before the door is opened, revealing the intimidating man, shirtless, a plastering of tattoos over his torso.
'What the fuck do you want?' He asks, blue eyes narrowing as he holds the door loosely in his hands, not even seeming the slightest bit phased by our unexpected appearance.
'I want you to stop bothering Joe,' I reply strongly, not a hint of the fear in my mind in my voice.
'Well that's not going to happen, so I suggest you go home to your mommy before I send you back crying,' he says coolly as he leans unconcernedly on the door, smirking at me with such a look of self satisfaction I want to slap it off his face.
'Oh, I think it is,' Mike says, bringing Milo's attention to him, standing tall and uncompromising a step behind me, 'you see, I've managed to dig up quiet the dirt on you after a few phone calls... it seems Joe isn't the first guy you've terrorised, only just as with him you've done your job well enough to keep them quiet... and I'm wondering, just how quiet.'
Milo's stance changes as he shifts his weight, looking less confident but a million times angrier.
'You don't know shit about me,' Milo snaps, eyes closing over with purest belief in himself.
'Oh don't I?' Mike smirks, loving this way more than he should, 'Milo Ricci, born July twenty eighth, nineteen seventy six, which makes you quite the fucking cradle snatcher, to Maria and Bill Ricci. Your parents divorced when you were seven, leaving you to go live with your grandmother as neither of them wanted to fucking put up with you. Am I along the right lines here? You've had previous convictions for assault, but somehow you've kept your record clean for the past few years, although God knows it shouldn't be,' Mike pauses for a second, letting everything he's said sink in before continuing. 'My father has a fair few police connections I've taken advantage of and I happen to know there's a current investigation into your practices after the contested 'suicide' of a William Desoires...all it would take is a tip off, from names trusted like ours.'
Milo scowls, looking like a cornered animal, coiled ready to fight. His hand moves quickly, pulling the knife out of his pocket but for once I'm quicker. Grabbing hold of his arm I struggle to pin it to the door, stop him from attacking us with the blade.
'This really isn't sensible,' Mike says from behind me as I stare into the man's ice blue eyes, feeling myself fill, not with terror as I had expected, but rage. This knife has always been there, how long would it take him to use it on Joe? This needs to end, and it needs to end now. 'You stick one of us with that thing then you're going to jail for sure, we're not without influence, unlike the poor bastards you usually target.'
Milo starts to wriggle, but I keep twisting his wrist until the knife drops, clattering to the floor, signalling our victory. We're both breathing heavy with effort as I move back but now Milo's eyes don't fix on mine, instead dart to the side, looking for an exit, an escape from this. Stepping to the side I block any route, glaring at him.
'What do you want?' He asks, still light on his feet, but willing to listen if it is the only option.
'I fucking told you, I want you to leave Joe alone,' I spit, cutting in before Mike has a chance to talk. This is not his fight, this is for Joe and I am fucking fighting for him, 'I never want to hear from him that he's seen you, got a note from you or even a fucking call. I want you out of his life, for good.'
'And what if I don't?' He asks, as arrogant as ever, proud and disgusting in his look, although less confident.
I grab him by the throat, pushing him back against the door, closing my fingers over the soft skin just the way he had with Joe. He's scum, the lowest of the fucking low, picking on guys he knows he can hurt, knows he can control, people smaller than him with a quiet voice.
'If you fucking don't then I'm going to make sure you fucking can't,' I yell, so close to his face I actually feel him flinch.
'You wouldn't kill me,' he says finally, trying to seem confident although I can feel it waning.
'We don't have to kill you.' Mike interrupts, cool and calm behind me, my temper completely lost. 'We know people with more influence than you could even imagine. We can make you disappear by nothing more than lifting a phone.'
It's not something I would usually let be said, using the family wealth I hate so much to get one over on someone, but I don't care. I can use it to shoot him dead in the water, to make this man know he can't walk over people and get away with it for the whole of his life. My name is good and my family do have fucking money, Mike has more and his father has connections I couldn't even comprehend. He can't fuck with us the way he can others, and he needs to fucking know it. I tighten my grip even more so his face reddens as he gasps for breath, beseeching me with eyes I would never trust.
'Keep away from him, or I swear to fucking God you'll regret it,' I hiss, holding the chokehold a second more than I probably should before letting my hand drop.
He softly grips his own neck, coughing and falling limp against the wall. I stand there, looking at this disgusting man. I wouldn't regret fucking up his life, I would fucking relish it for all he has done to Joe, to the others before him. He's a cunt, one of the most calculating men I've ever met and I would celebrate seeing him burn.
Mike takes hold of my shoulder, having to physically pull me away from the doorway to the stairs. I want to make sure he leaves Joe alone, I want to make sure we never lay eyes on him again. Fuck, I don't want to even hear his name.
'Come on man, shake it off,' Mike encourages, hand still on my shoulder, squeezing it, 'fuck, I'm proud. I never thought I'd see you act like that.'
'I'd fucking kill him if I thought I'd get away with it,' I reply, joining my hands and cracking my knuckles to try and bring my heart rate down, which is pumping with adrenaline.
Mike doesn't say anything to this, simply walks me out of the apartment building to the car. I open the door and drop inside, ignoring all of the looks from passers by. Hopefully it will have worked, if not he could spin it any way he wanted and make Joe think I'm an absolute asshole, just the same as him; working on threats and violence. Please God have let this have worked. I couldn't bear to end up having him hate me.
*
I exhale deeply as I stand in front of Joe's door. All I had wanted was a quiet afternoon after the conflict with Milo, but Mike had made a point of re-telling the episode to everyone in our house, on separate occasions as well. They had all been immensely shocked that I'd acted the way I had, accusing Mike of elaborating the tale. In a way I'm glad they hadn't thought I'd done it, because it's not the way I am. Usually I'm the last to enter confrontation, not seek it out. Maybe, even if it gets back to Joe, he'll see I only did it to protect him. If there weren't a reason for that kind of behaviour then I would never have acted so terribly. I'm not going to tell him, I don't want him to know, I'm ashamed of the way I let Mike use our collective influence against him, the family fortune I've not admitted to one day possessing. Sure I've told Joe a little of my fathers company, but I've not told him anything of just how much I will be entitled to in the future. It would scare him off for sure, and I hope to God Milo hasn't figured that out to try and use it against me.
Steadying myself I knock on the door. Hopefully I wont feel any form of guilt at keeping this from him, I'm sure he'd be able to pick up on it instantly. He wouldn't link it with what I've done, but he could think I'm hiding something worse. There isn't an answer and I knock again, thoughts of Milo lost from my mind with the more present worry that Joe might not answer at all. God, it could have all been for nothing. Not that I would regret gaining Joe a quieter life, but it will be fucking unfair.
'Who is it?' Comes the voice that sends shivers up my spine. I don't even have to see him to want him, in every way possible.
'Ben,' I call, leaning a hand on the frame of the door, steadying myself as well as waiting.
It's opened a little, Joe peeking through the gap as though he didn't believe me. His eyes sweep over me before he opens it wider, letting me enter. Once inside he carefully shuts the door, and although he has let me in I can't help but notice the silence, and the lack of contact. I hate feeling this awkward around him, not when we'd managed to get past it. How can he let Milo do this to him?
'Had a good day at work?' I ask, trying to break the quiet which is hanging so heavy between us.
'It was okay, Brandan had a bug up his ass about something, couldn't sit still. It was driving me crazy,' he says, leaning on his table, not looking at me.
'So, uh...' I start, wanting to cut the chit chat and get straight to the point. If he's going to kick me out I'd rather he got it over and done with instead of keeping me hanging on out of politeness, 'I'm going to ask you straight, where do I stand?'
'You stand just as you ever did,' he says, still looking away, 'it's everything else which has changed.' He pushes himself away from the table, talking a slow step towards me, a shuffled step like his legs are stiff. He breathes slowly, a gentle exhalation which I feel on my face as he starts to lift his hand, pulling it back as if scalded before trying again, this time softly touching my face, the sensitive skin over the cut. I flinch at the unexpected pain of the contact and immediately I know I've done the wrong thing, his hand pulling back, eyes falling to the ground. 'I can't let you be hurt because of me, I can't let anyone else hurt because of me.'
Reaching forward for his falling hand I raise it again, this time to my lips, kissing his fingers, smelling the scent of oil with the skin so close to my nose. It overwhelms me nearly to the point of tears. I can't lose him, not like this.
'If you leave me I will hurt because of you, especially when the reason has nothing to do with us,' I say solemnly, keeping my hold on his hand, fingers working over his, begging him not to do this.
He looks up, green eyes torn with emotion he wont spill. I know Milo fucked with him last night, that his own actions shocked him. I completely understand why he wants to close himself off, but I'm not going to let him, won't let him hide back in the shell. Not only will I lose him, but he will lose that special part of himself he keeps hidden, and I won't let him force it any deeper into hiding.
'I know,' he sighs, stepping away, but leaving his hand in mine, 'I know I'm being ridiculous, but after everything with...' He cuts himself off, as though he was going to give too much away. 'I just want to forget about him and move on, but I can't when he's there all the fucking time.'
'Maybe he wont bother you again, last night could have shown him you've got too many people who care about you for him to get anywhere,' I suggest, not wanting to just admit my real reasoning behind this idea.
'I doubt it,' Joe says, shaking his head, 'he's too much of a dick.'
I try my luck and am amazed to find he lets me pull him to me, folding my arms around his back. He sinks into the hug, sagging against my body. In this embrace he doesn't protest any more, seems to just give in and accept I'm here. Maybe this is all I have to do in the future, the easiest way to win an argument.
'So am I allowed to stay?' I ask, kissing the side of his head.
'No,' he replies, and I tense until I feel him smile into my shoulder, 'we've got to go meet the others at the bar, we're both going.'
I smile, at this little show of warmth and humour, and also in happiness I'm not going to be shut out. I'm so glad I can't control the surge of mixed emotions, a tangle of joy, love and lust.
'So we're going straight out are we?' I ask, holding him tighter, letting my hands drop from his back to rest on his firm buttocks. I don't care if it's too soon after the rocky start, but I want him, I want him so much I can't take it.
'Getting ideas are you?' He returns, leaning his head back so he can look me fully in the eye, his darkening by the second. I can feel his breath across my lips, which makes them ache for a kiss, ache for the sweetness of his mouth.
'Oh, I don't know,' I reply, voice soft and low as I push him back against the counter, pressing my hips to his, 'might be.'
He makes the last move, violently crushing his lips to mine. His breath gushes into my mouth as his hands run up my shirt, short nails dragging down my back, making me hiss into the kiss at the delicious pain. There is no doubting the desperation in his want, and I find myself responding just as wildly, going straight for the button on his jeans. He kicks them off quickly, boxers following. My hands are on the back of his thighs, gripping them hard as I pick him up, pushing him back up onto the counter, his legs splayed wide, presenting his naked lower half to me in its full glory. I unbutton my jeans, hands fumbling in their haste, pushing the clothing down my thighs, releasing the erection which had been straining them.
There are no words spoken between us, only the communication of our bodies as I penetrate him. He grips my shoulders, body squirming so badly I have to grip his thighs harder to keep him up against the counter, panting at the strain, all my muscles quivering. I can taste the fire in his mouth, the heat of his body as we sweat in unison, straining for the same completion, the sating of the same burning need. He bites my neck, emitting noises I've never heard from his throat before, almost cries as I thrust hard, somehow managing to slip a hand between us and keep him on the counter. All I can feel is him, all I can smell is him. I'm locked in his body, reaching for everything and finding it all in this man. My orgasm takes me by surprise, making me cry out and clutch him harder to my chest, thighs quivering from the force of pure ecstasy so I nearly collapse under the weight of us both. I feel Joe come, whole body shuddering as he gasps and moans into my ear, riding out his pleasure and stimulating me more.
We fall sated against each other and I hold him softer, but just as desperately. I love him, I love this man who is clinging to me, trembling against me. Still we don't talk, nothing our mouths can say our bodies already haven't, but I feel a butterfly soft kiss pressed to my neck, one which lingers. My fingers flex on the skin of his back, his muscle shifting beneath it. We couldn't lose this, it's too strong, in both of us.