(no subject)
Title: Stray Kitten
Author: Nihilism
Rating: Adult.
Summary: A sixteen year old homeless kid has his first sexual encounter with an older man. Part one of the Warehouse Series I'll be sporadically putting into text form.
Notes: All characters depicted are original. Little Lee belongs solely to the author, and reproduction will be met with a swift roundhouse kick to the head. Jake belongs to Miss Abi Oozi and is reproduced with express permission from her loveliness. And this was written in dedication to her. Feedback is greatly appreciated because original character stories make me nervous as hell.
It really wasn't supposed to happen this way.
The thought fleetingly passes through Lee's mind, one of the few he's allowed right now. The majority of his attention is diverted. He's shoved against a wall, the grip on his thin shoulders hard enough to hurt, but that doesn't get much attention either. Nor does the fact that he's pretty sure his feet aren't even touching the ground. No, the majority of his attention is rather focused on the fact that Ruckus, Jake "Ruckus" Russ (whose actual name he only found out yesterday from a giggly, stoned Duster,) is pinning him to this wall and kissing him.
Kissing may not even be the word for it. Kissing, Lee always thought, was supposed to be a gentle thing, filled with compassion and grace and feelings. Or at least something that would make his stomach do the pleasant little acrobatics it does anytime Ruckus catches him staring. Or, at least not this fucking violent. It's making his stomach flop more in the way that he suspects it wants to curl up behind his lungs and hide, shivering and terrified, which is almost what Lee wants to do himself, except he doesn't have the option of hiding behind his own lungs. There isn't much to hide behind here at all, which is why he doesn't protest when Ruckus drags him away from the wall to throw him onto the nest of second-hand blankets in the corner of the room.
And then Ruckus is on him again, as violent and angry as ever, and Lee is left wondering if the man has ever given a genuine moment's thought to the reasons he's so angry at the world instead of just being that way. That volatile little mouth of his is finding new victims in Lee's neck and throat and shoulders, Lee's own mouth only gasping and pleading, but never for him to stop. So Ruckus doesn't, though by this point, Lee is doubting that he would either way. His hands are everywhere, all at once, Lee can't keep track of them. Lee doesn't think his mind has ever in his sixteen years been this foggy without smoking or snorting something, but disallowed the liberty of overanalyzing it as he seems to do with everything else, he can only enjoy.
Ruckus finds his place above Lee, one of his legs tucked snuggly in between both of the younger boy's, and he's watching him. Lee is scared, and uncertain, and he knows Ruckus can see it plainly in his bright blue eyes, which only serves to terrify him more. In typical Ruckus-fashion the man takes no notice. He captures his mouth again. Lee doesn't offer anything in return to the kiss, but allows for it, parting his lips naturally as Ruckus' tongue invades and conquers. One of Ruckus' hands traps a tiny wrist, dragging it over Lee's head and pinning it there lazily, as if he doesn't care whether it's freed. As if he knows Lee won't dare fight him. Lee finds the way he's being so completely dominated oddly reassuring, moreso than the unusual touch of softness Ruckus tries to put into the kiss. That leg between both of his own tempts him, and he feels his hips shifting up to press against it shyly. The friction elicits a soft, submissive groan and he writhes minutely against Ruckus' thigh, creating more of it. The hand not holding Lee's down finds its way to one sharp hip, then skims inwards without hesitation, giving the boy what he wasn't even sure of asking for as it unbuttons and unzips his pants, weaseling its way into the opening.
Lee gasps into Ruckus' mouth, his free hand flying up to grip at Ruckus' shoulderblade in a white-knuckle grip as the hand in his pants finds purchase on his cock. Contradicting his fear, he pushes his hips up towards the contact. Luckily Ruckus drug him upstairs, away from the general public, before attacking like this. He wouldn't dare be this shamelessly pleading if they were surrounded by the rest of the street rats that dwelled in this abandoned warehouse.
As his head snaps back to allow him to gasp for breath, Ruckus' teeth find the soft skin of his throat. They ease off after a second, replaced by the chilled metal of the man's lipring. Lee is only absently aware of the sensation, enough to crane his head back and arch his neck up in offering. The rest of his attention is again taken by something else, and he has to force his eyelids open to watch Ruckus; to ascertain to himself that this is really happening. He fights his hips against Ruckus' hand and his thigh, letting his free hand drop back to the ground and shakily sliding it up to rest next to the other where it's immediately captured by Ruckus' hand.
Ruckus lifts his head, peering at the boy with that demeaning half-glare he wears more often than not. Lee thinks he senses a disapproval in the man's eyes. He has to know, by now, that Lee is more or less completely unaccustomed to sexual encounters. And with that knowledge he undoubtedly realizes that, unlike other seductions, this will change things. The boy might try to play along for a few days, pretend that it didn't matter, but in the end he'll be left hopelessly and obnoxiously hovering around like a stray kitten who got fed once and won't leave.
The man above him laughs, deep and throaty, that ether and rubbing alcohol voice that's only part of the reason Lee was so intrigued by him in the first place. The laugh causes a tremor to fight its way down his spine, and he curls, arching his back until he's resting only on the crown of his head and the back of his hips. Lee is hyperventilating, or past that, both because he's never been so aroused in his short life and because he's more nervous than he can remember conciously being. Even as his mind is distracted by all the sensations he feels, he can't help thinking over how this probably means nothing, Ruckus does it all the time, tomorrow he'll act like it never happened.
The laughter stops abruptly, and Ruckus increases the speed of his hand over the boy's cock, rolling his hips down to pin the boy more securely to the floor. That dangerous, addictive grin remains. Even if this will make Lee cling more than before, he can't stop himself from continuing it, enticed by Lee's exhibition of bendability and his own twisted curiousity. Lee starts to writhe more actively, emitting a high-pitched, sharp whine, followed by a loud scream that surprises Ruckus. He finally lets himself give into the overwhelming sensations, coming hard between their meshed forms and shaking all over. The shivering, shuddering continues even after he's spent. Ruckus releases him, rolling onto his side next to the boy before pulling himself into a halfway seated positon, propped up by the wall.
Lee finally quits shaking, though he's still gasping for sparse air and he squirms. Subconciously, he moves closer to Ruckus, situating himself with his head resting against the man's thigh as he comes down from the orgasmic high. And before the position registers, before affection or amazement, it's Ruckus' laugh. He's laughing. That almost acidic sound that targets everything at once in it's reasoning, and when Lee peers up at him, he finds Ruckus staring back. Amusement in his eyes, from some thought that he likely will never disclose, as he never discloses anything to Lee. Lee is sure that his own eyes reveal anything Ruckus could want to know. The elation is replaced by a sinking, nauseating feeling in the pit of his tummy. Ruckus recognizes the injury for what it is, and he may not like that he caused that uneasy blue but he sure as hell isn't going to do anything about it.
Lee blinks his eyes open wider, staring up at the man and clenching his jaw. He wants to cry; wants to sob and run back to his aunt's house and try to forget this ever happened. He knew better than to think that this would change Ruckus' attitude completely, he wasn't quite that naive. But that laughter cut deep, deeper than Lee would have expected it to. His chest is tightening up threateningly with the familiar onset of panic even as Ruckus finally stops laughing, as the hateful half-grin dies. He cocks his head to the side, peering down at his young companion. One hand falls to the boy's scalp, stroking through the bleached hair lightly, ignoring the sick expression on his face as he speaks, the hint of laughter on the surface of his burnt voice. "Ain't bad...fer a kid."
Something inside of Lee's ribcage cracks, and with it, panic snaps into anger. He jerks his head away from Ruckus' touch. He sits up, and for a second it appears he's going to dart off without even bothering to fix his pants, but instead he flips over and balances on his knees. He tears at the clasp of Ruckus' belt and his pants, tugging them open. He drops his head, skeletal fingers curling around the man's cock to pull it free of his pants before he takes the entire organ back into his mouth and throat without a hint of hesitance. Whatever amusement was left in Ruckus' expression dies as Lee sucks fiercely on the heated skin, his cheeks hollowing in, the muscles of his throat swallowing around the head of his dick.
It's only whatever the boy's heard, 'sucking off,' and he's taking it as literally as one can. Even if it's obvious that Lee is clueless to the world of sexual deviance, Ruckus finds he has no room to complain as he sucks on him, nose buried against the tight, damp curls around his crotch. Those small hands divert to grasp at either of Ruckus' hips before Lee yanks his head back, paying no attention to the fingers gripping at his hair. His mouth descends just as quickly, tongue swirling around and against the taut skin as he continues to suck viciously on it. Ruckus drives his hips up as much as he can manage with the restraint, cursing disjointedly. He was half intoxicated when he brought Lee up here and tonight is not a night for holding back and testing his stamina. He lets himself release into the boy's mouth shortly, twitching under Lee's hold, cursing and fisting his hands in Lee's hair before all the muscles in his body go slack.
Lee doesn't even complain as the thick, sour fluid fills his mouth, even though the texture alone has potential to make him ill for the rest of the night. Instead, he slides his lips to the head of Ruckus' cock, barely swallowing any of the liquid but teasing the slit there to derive more of it. Then he straightens up, taking advantage of Ruckus' lax state to crush his mouth to the older man's, prying his lips open with his tongue and letting the semen pour back into Ruckus' mouth. He pulls back as soon as his own mouth is emptied, swiping his small, pink tongue over his bottom lip to clean it and glaring viciously at Ruckus. Ruckus accepts the action perhaps only because Lee had the balls to do it, and that was impressive for the skittish kid, but he turns his head to the side to spit the sticky substance against the metal floor before meeting Lee's glare with one ten times more threatening.
Lee barely has time to register the fact that the glare being thrown at him is usually used before Ruckus slams his fist into the wall or sticks his gun in someone's face. Instead, one hand returns to his hair and grips it painfully tight. Ruckus tugs the boy to his chest, holding him there roughly and hissing against his scalp, oddly approving. "Fuckin'...parasite."
By the time Lee's head finds its place against Ruckus' shoulder, all traces of anger are gone from his small body. He laughs breathlessly for the words, his own hands coming to rest benignly against Ruckus' chest. And this is not the way it was supposed to happen. Ruckus was supposed to be languid and affectionate, the way he'd been downstairs when he'd approached Lee and dragged his mouth across the back of his neck. And Ruckus likely wouldn't change his attitude towards him, or pay him any more attention than he did previously. This may not even happen again. But this is the way it happened, the first time. And Lee is singularly convinced that if he were to get up and leave, to go back to live with his insane aunt instead of staying here in this dilapidated warehouse with Ruckus and Duster and the rest of the ingrates, that at least Ruckus would know what he was missing out on. And maybe, if Lee did that, he may even regret losing him...just a little bit.
Author: Nihilism
Rating: Adult.
Summary: A sixteen year old homeless kid has his first sexual encounter with an older man. Part one of the Warehouse Series I'll be sporadically putting into text form.
Notes: All characters depicted are original. Little Lee belongs solely to the author, and reproduction will be met with a swift roundhouse kick to the head. Jake belongs to Miss Abi Oozi and is reproduced with express permission from her loveliness. And this was written in dedication to her. Feedback is greatly appreciated because original character stories make me nervous as hell.
It really wasn't supposed to happen this way.
The thought fleetingly passes through Lee's mind, one of the few he's allowed right now. The majority of his attention is diverted. He's shoved against a wall, the grip on his thin shoulders hard enough to hurt, but that doesn't get much attention either. Nor does the fact that he's pretty sure his feet aren't even touching the ground. No, the majority of his attention is rather focused on the fact that Ruckus, Jake "Ruckus" Russ (whose actual name he only found out yesterday from a giggly, stoned Duster,) is pinning him to this wall and kissing him.
Kissing may not even be the word for it. Kissing, Lee always thought, was supposed to be a gentle thing, filled with compassion and grace and feelings. Or at least something that would make his stomach do the pleasant little acrobatics it does anytime Ruckus catches him staring. Or, at least not this fucking violent. It's making his stomach flop more in the way that he suspects it wants to curl up behind his lungs and hide, shivering and terrified, which is almost what Lee wants to do himself, except he doesn't have the option of hiding behind his own lungs. There isn't much to hide behind here at all, which is why he doesn't protest when Ruckus drags him away from the wall to throw him onto the nest of second-hand blankets in the corner of the room.
And then Ruckus is on him again, as violent and angry as ever, and Lee is left wondering if the man has ever given a genuine moment's thought to the reasons he's so angry at the world instead of just being that way. That volatile little mouth of his is finding new victims in Lee's neck and throat and shoulders, Lee's own mouth only gasping and pleading, but never for him to stop. So Ruckus doesn't, though by this point, Lee is doubting that he would either way. His hands are everywhere, all at once, Lee can't keep track of them. Lee doesn't think his mind has ever in his sixteen years been this foggy without smoking or snorting something, but disallowed the liberty of overanalyzing it as he seems to do with everything else, he can only enjoy.
Ruckus finds his place above Lee, one of his legs tucked snuggly in between both of the younger boy's, and he's watching him. Lee is scared, and uncertain, and he knows Ruckus can see it plainly in his bright blue eyes, which only serves to terrify him more. In typical Ruckus-fashion the man takes no notice. He captures his mouth again. Lee doesn't offer anything in return to the kiss, but allows for it, parting his lips naturally as Ruckus' tongue invades and conquers. One of Ruckus' hands traps a tiny wrist, dragging it over Lee's head and pinning it there lazily, as if he doesn't care whether it's freed. As if he knows Lee won't dare fight him. Lee finds the way he's being so completely dominated oddly reassuring, moreso than the unusual touch of softness Ruckus tries to put into the kiss. That leg between both of his own tempts him, and he feels his hips shifting up to press against it shyly. The friction elicits a soft, submissive groan and he writhes minutely against Ruckus' thigh, creating more of it. The hand not holding Lee's down finds its way to one sharp hip, then skims inwards without hesitation, giving the boy what he wasn't even sure of asking for as it unbuttons and unzips his pants, weaseling its way into the opening.
Lee gasps into Ruckus' mouth, his free hand flying up to grip at Ruckus' shoulderblade in a white-knuckle grip as the hand in his pants finds purchase on his cock. Contradicting his fear, he pushes his hips up towards the contact. Luckily Ruckus drug him upstairs, away from the general public, before attacking like this. He wouldn't dare be this shamelessly pleading if they were surrounded by the rest of the street rats that dwelled in this abandoned warehouse.
As his head snaps back to allow him to gasp for breath, Ruckus' teeth find the soft skin of his throat. They ease off after a second, replaced by the chilled metal of the man's lipring. Lee is only absently aware of the sensation, enough to crane his head back and arch his neck up in offering. The rest of his attention is again taken by something else, and he has to force his eyelids open to watch Ruckus; to ascertain to himself that this is really happening. He fights his hips against Ruckus' hand and his thigh, letting his free hand drop back to the ground and shakily sliding it up to rest next to the other where it's immediately captured by Ruckus' hand.
Ruckus lifts his head, peering at the boy with that demeaning half-glare he wears more often than not. Lee thinks he senses a disapproval in the man's eyes. He has to know, by now, that Lee is more or less completely unaccustomed to sexual encounters. And with that knowledge he undoubtedly realizes that, unlike other seductions, this will change things. The boy might try to play along for a few days, pretend that it didn't matter, but in the end he'll be left hopelessly and obnoxiously hovering around like a stray kitten who got fed once and won't leave.
The man above him laughs, deep and throaty, that ether and rubbing alcohol voice that's only part of the reason Lee was so intrigued by him in the first place. The laugh causes a tremor to fight its way down his spine, and he curls, arching his back until he's resting only on the crown of his head and the back of his hips. Lee is hyperventilating, or past that, both because he's never been so aroused in his short life and because he's more nervous than he can remember conciously being. Even as his mind is distracted by all the sensations he feels, he can't help thinking over how this probably means nothing, Ruckus does it all the time, tomorrow he'll act like it never happened.
The laughter stops abruptly, and Ruckus increases the speed of his hand over the boy's cock, rolling his hips down to pin the boy more securely to the floor. That dangerous, addictive grin remains. Even if this will make Lee cling more than before, he can't stop himself from continuing it, enticed by Lee's exhibition of bendability and his own twisted curiousity. Lee starts to writhe more actively, emitting a high-pitched, sharp whine, followed by a loud scream that surprises Ruckus. He finally lets himself give into the overwhelming sensations, coming hard between their meshed forms and shaking all over. The shivering, shuddering continues even after he's spent. Ruckus releases him, rolling onto his side next to the boy before pulling himself into a halfway seated positon, propped up by the wall.
Lee finally quits shaking, though he's still gasping for sparse air and he squirms. Subconciously, he moves closer to Ruckus, situating himself with his head resting against the man's thigh as he comes down from the orgasmic high. And before the position registers, before affection or amazement, it's Ruckus' laugh. He's laughing. That almost acidic sound that targets everything at once in it's reasoning, and when Lee peers up at him, he finds Ruckus staring back. Amusement in his eyes, from some thought that he likely will never disclose, as he never discloses anything to Lee. Lee is sure that his own eyes reveal anything Ruckus could want to know. The elation is replaced by a sinking, nauseating feeling in the pit of his tummy. Ruckus recognizes the injury for what it is, and he may not like that he caused that uneasy blue but he sure as hell isn't going to do anything about it.
Lee blinks his eyes open wider, staring up at the man and clenching his jaw. He wants to cry; wants to sob and run back to his aunt's house and try to forget this ever happened. He knew better than to think that this would change Ruckus' attitude completely, he wasn't quite that naive. But that laughter cut deep, deeper than Lee would have expected it to. His chest is tightening up threateningly with the familiar onset of panic even as Ruckus finally stops laughing, as the hateful half-grin dies. He cocks his head to the side, peering down at his young companion. One hand falls to the boy's scalp, stroking through the bleached hair lightly, ignoring the sick expression on his face as he speaks, the hint of laughter on the surface of his burnt voice. "Ain't bad...fer a kid."
Something inside of Lee's ribcage cracks, and with it, panic snaps into anger. He jerks his head away from Ruckus' touch. He sits up, and for a second it appears he's going to dart off without even bothering to fix his pants, but instead he flips over and balances on his knees. He tears at the clasp of Ruckus' belt and his pants, tugging them open. He drops his head, skeletal fingers curling around the man's cock to pull it free of his pants before he takes the entire organ back into his mouth and throat without a hint of hesitance. Whatever amusement was left in Ruckus' expression dies as Lee sucks fiercely on the heated skin, his cheeks hollowing in, the muscles of his throat swallowing around the head of his dick.
It's only whatever the boy's heard, 'sucking off,' and he's taking it as literally as one can. Even if it's obvious that Lee is clueless to the world of sexual deviance, Ruckus finds he has no room to complain as he sucks on him, nose buried against the tight, damp curls around his crotch. Those small hands divert to grasp at either of Ruckus' hips before Lee yanks his head back, paying no attention to the fingers gripping at his hair. His mouth descends just as quickly, tongue swirling around and against the taut skin as he continues to suck viciously on it. Ruckus drives his hips up as much as he can manage with the restraint, cursing disjointedly. He was half intoxicated when he brought Lee up here and tonight is not a night for holding back and testing his stamina. He lets himself release into the boy's mouth shortly, twitching under Lee's hold, cursing and fisting his hands in Lee's hair before all the muscles in his body go slack.
Lee doesn't even complain as the thick, sour fluid fills his mouth, even though the texture alone has potential to make him ill for the rest of the night. Instead, he slides his lips to the head of Ruckus' cock, barely swallowing any of the liquid but teasing the slit there to derive more of it. Then he straightens up, taking advantage of Ruckus' lax state to crush his mouth to the older man's, prying his lips open with his tongue and letting the semen pour back into Ruckus' mouth. He pulls back as soon as his own mouth is emptied, swiping his small, pink tongue over his bottom lip to clean it and glaring viciously at Ruckus. Ruckus accepts the action perhaps only because Lee had the balls to do it, and that was impressive for the skittish kid, but he turns his head to the side to spit the sticky substance against the metal floor before meeting Lee's glare with one ten times more threatening.
Lee barely has time to register the fact that the glare being thrown at him is usually used before Ruckus slams his fist into the wall or sticks his gun in someone's face. Instead, one hand returns to his hair and grips it painfully tight. Ruckus tugs the boy to his chest, holding him there roughly and hissing against his scalp, oddly approving. "Fuckin'...parasite."
By the time Lee's head finds its place against Ruckus' shoulder, all traces of anger are gone from his small body. He laughs breathlessly for the words, his own hands coming to rest benignly against Ruckus' chest. And this is not the way it was supposed to happen. Ruckus was supposed to be languid and affectionate, the way he'd been downstairs when he'd approached Lee and dragged his mouth across the back of his neck. And Ruckus likely wouldn't change his attitude towards him, or pay him any more attention than he did previously. This may not even happen again. But this is the way it happened, the first time. And Lee is singularly convinced that if he were to get up and leave, to go back to live with his insane aunt instead of staying here in this dilapidated warehouse with Ruckus and Duster and the rest of the ingrates, that at least Ruckus would know what he was missing out on. And maybe, if Lee did that, he may even regret losing him...just a little bit.