08. Strength
Title: Raise Hell
Author: SaintLi
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Robber/Driver (Eli/Gabe)
Wordcount (this chapter): 4,402
Fandom: Mint Royale
Special Features: Some killer, mostly filler. (A lotta sex, some plot, essentially is what I'm trying to say)
08. Strength
"I promise you, no one judges me more harshly than I do myself; I caused a brilliant wreckage. Some say I fell from grace; they're being kind. I didn't fall--I dove."
--Sue Monk Kidd, The Mermaid Chair
I woke up in an unfamiliar car park three hours later, the car still on and the driver seat empty. My head felt fit to burst, a dizzying pressure building up and tugging at the seams. I took long, slow breaths through my nose, expelling them at the same pace through my mouth. My stomach growled loudly, gurgling uncomfortably. I realized Gabe and I had skipped lunch somewhere between dropping close to two grand at T.K. Maxx and the near-empty carpark that surrounded me. A motion in the corner of my eye caught my attention--Gabe coming out of the building we were parked behind, his jacket still unzipped. He strolled casually toward my side of the car, hands in his pockets, thumbs hooked into his belt loops.
I rolled down my window, which he promptly wedged his upper body through, wrapping his arms around my neck. "Got us another room," he breathed against my temple, "Help me bring our stuff up and we'll go eat, yeah?"
"Where are we?" I asked groggily, turning my face a fraction to nuzzle at his jaw.
"Stockton," he hummed, tipping his chin up, exposing his neck. I pressed my face into it, kissed him gently at the base of his throat and was rewarded by the sound of a small gasp. I tangled my fingers in his hair, about to kiss him again when his words finally sank in.
"Wait, Stockton?" I asked, pulling back, his hair still looped round my fingers, "As in Stockton-on-Tees?"
"One and the same," he murmured, fingers tugging at my jacket collar. I wanted to ask why Stockton, but found my mouth suddenly occupied--Gabe holding the back of my neck as he kissed me. "Let's bring the stuff up now, yeah?" he breathed against me, pressing a series of gentle kisses to my lips before carefully slipping back out through the window. I sighed, suddenly thankful for the long jacket I was wearing, and followed him out.
It took two trips, but we managed to get all our new clothes and the briefcases full of money up without completely freezing ourselves to death. I dropped Gabe's doctor's bag at the foot of the bed and blew hot puffs of air over my fingers, attempting to warm them. Gabe came out of the bathroom just then, and smirked at me. "Cold?" he asked, stepping towards me. I nodded, continuing my attempts at getting feeling back in my fingers. I heard him chuckle, watched as he reached out and pulled me closer by my belt loops. He grasped my hands and brought them behind him, pushing them into the back pockets of his jeans. "Better?"
"Y-yeah," I stuttered, my fingers twitching against the rough denim.
"G'on," he urged softly, his nose bumping against my jaw. I gave his arse an experimental squeeze, coaxing a little hum from his mouth. I groped a bit harder and he laughed, pressing his hips into mine. "That's it." He rocked into me, his fingers threading the buttons on my jacket through. "You wearin' 'em?"
"What?" I rasped, still kneading the firm flesh of his bottom, my heart beating faster as he stripped my jacket from me, fingers grasping the hem of my shirt. I hesitantly pulled my hand from his pockets, lifting my arms to better allow the shirt to be peeled from me. My necklace was cold as ice as it landed softly on my bare skin. My hands immediately shot back to his arse, which made him chuckle.
"The pants," he smirked, leaning in to kiss me, "Are you wearin' the pants?" He kissed and licked his way down my neck, the question getting lost for a moment between the feel of his erection pressing into me through the fabric of our trousers and nip of his teeth against my collarbone.
"Yes," I hissed through gritted teeth as he bit and sucked my nipple to hardness, "I am."
I felt him grin against my skin before he pulled back, his gaze dark and heavy upon my face. "C'mon, lemme see."
Blushing, I toed my boots off, unfastened my jeans with trembling fingers. I could feel him watching intently, his gaze traveling over me as my heart beat faster, my cock twitching against its restriction. I pushed the jeans down off my hips and stepped out of them, standing there awkwardly as his eyes roamed over me, appraising. He tongued the point of his canine tooth and stepped closer, nodding to himself. He circled round me, fingers dancing across my skin.
"Were you right?" I asked finally, as his hands stroked over my shoulders and down my back.
"I usually am, mate," he chuckled, hands coming round to stroke me though the pants. I made some embarrassing, involuntary noise in the back of my throat, pressing my hips forward into his palm. He laughed softly once more, pinched my backside with his free hand. "Get on the bed. On your back, yeah?"
I did as I was asked, crawling onto the middle of the bed with slightly shaking limbs, flipping onto my back. My pants stuck to the head of my erection, where it was leaking steadily. I wondered somewhere in the still-functioning part of my mind what he'd do to me, my skin buzzing with the premonition of possible touches. He kept his eyes on me as he peeled off his jacket. It made a dull thump against the floor where it fell as he toed off his boots and reached forward, yanked my socks off and threw them down with the rest of my clothes. He grasped my ankles, pulling my legs part to crawl between. Laying on his stomach, propped up on an elbow, face centimetres from my groin, he leered up at me, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. His hand came out to stroke me again, the touch muted through the soft fabric, his fingers dipping lower to brush over my testicles.
"You've been gaggin' for it all day, haven't ya?" he asked softly, dropping his head to mouth at me through the pants. I cursed low under my breath, hips jerking towards the wet heat of his mouth as I grasped the headboard, afraid if I touched him, I'd hurt him. "Haven't ya?" he asked again, the vibration of the question buzzing against me.
"Yes, yes." My grip tightened on the slats of the headboard, lifting my hips as he prised my pants down. My cock lolled full and heavy against my stomach, a thin string of precum stretching between my skin and the head, and then breaking as Gabe gave me a few long, slow strokes. My every nerve felt like the physical embodiment of radio static as he gently pushed back my foreskin, licked around the head. My legs moved of their own volition, feet rubbing against the duvet beneath us. My toe brushed his denim clad thigh, and before I could think, I found myself asking, "Why aren't you naked?"
It might've been a sexy question, if I hadn't sounded like a confused toddler. Gabe pulled off me with a pop and cackled loudly. "You're eager, ain't ya?" He sat up and repositioned himself, a bony knee on either side of my hips. Looming above, I saw his eyes flick briefly to my hands--still grasping the headboard--before trailing down my body. "Look at ya," he all but purred, hands roving across my chest. "I bet," he continued softly, eyes following the trail of his fingers, "When people see us out together, they think it's you what would be in my position, yeah? They'd think I'd be the one on my back, all pleadin' with my eyes, heart beatin' out my chest." My cock twitched; he noticed, and grinned wider.
I watched him squeeze himself through his jeans, fingertips dancing along his length, his eyes still locked on mine as he popped the button on his skinnies, pulled the zip. I found myself letting go of the headboard to lean up on my elbows. The smell of him--that car smell of motor oil and leather, his cologne, the musky scent of his excitement--made my mouth water as he pulled himself free, his erection jutting out between flaps of fabric. I watched my hand trail up his thigh, my fingers trembling. His hands were in my hair, tugging gently, stroking through my curls. I grasped the base of his cock, my 'wedding ring' glinting back at me in the soft illumination of the bedside lamp. He knee-walked closer to me, the rise and fall of his stomach with each shallow breath visible through his poor excuse of a shirt--the skulls grinning at me.
"You get off on it, don't ya?" he asked softly. His hand came down and grasped my wrist. I watched as he moved my hand and up and down along his length, stopping just shy of the head each time. He let go of my wrist, and I continued the pace he'd set, surprised when he then placed his fingers lightly over my knuckles like a hand on an Ouija board planchette. "You're always hidin' stuff away, yeah? And this is just another form of that. And it makes it that much more exciting, knowing you could pin me down and fuck me senseless. But you can't, can you?"
He was right, of course. It was exciting, not knowing what would happen next. And more than that, these moments spent with him where I was placed firmly in the passenger's seat--literally and figuratively--where I didn't have to make any decisions, just let myself be driven along winding roads without even the benefit of a map… these were the moments where I felt freer than I'd ever been in my life. And yet underneath all this safety and freedom was a hesitancy that wouldn't let me reach out and pull him to me by the belt loops, to boss him around, to be inside him. If I act upon my desire for another man, that's a sin. If Gabe takes control of the situation, he becomes a thing that happens to me.
"No," I answered in a whisper. His fingers slipped from my knuckles down to the head of his cock, collecting the precum beaded there. He pressed his moist fingertips to my bottom lip and I opened up, the salty tang of him strange and thrilling. I sucked his fingers clean, watched his gaze darken, felt him twitch against my palm. And I thought… this is power. I inched forward, licked across his slit with my flattened tongue, and heard him expel a puff of air through parted lips. His fingers tightened in my hair as I gently took the head of his cock in my mouth, unsure what to do about my teeth. I swirled my tongue around him and sucked, glancing up to watch his face for any signs as to what I should be doing.
"Fuck, Eli," he breathed, eyes flickering closed for a moment before his gaze locked back onto mine. A breathless laugh ghosted past his lips, disbelief evident on his face as he held my gaze. "I didn't...I didn't think you'd actually..." He trailed off, head dropping back. I watched the bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed back moans, thrusting shallowly into my mouth. My neck and shoulders started to ache from the uncomfortable position we were in, but I couldn't tear myself away--as much a victim to his surrender as he was. I swallowed around him and his hips jerked involuntarily, pushing forcefully into the back of my throat. I gagged, tears in my eyes as he apologized breathlessly, his fingers tugging at my curls as he resumed his carefully controlled thrusts into my mouth. His breathing was labored--sharp gasps between groaned expletives and praises, and promises to make me come so hard I'd see stars.
He pulled free from me, suddenly, one hand cupped before his erection as he stroked himself--once, twice, three times--before coming with a loud groan. His eyes were glassy and unfocussed as he slumped forward slightly, his clean hand pushing me back into the mattress, where my shoulders landed with a heavy thump. I watched as he tucked himself away with the graceless speed of the over-eager before shuffling back, kneeling between my knees. He spread my legs wider, instructing me to pull a knee up to my chest, muttering under his breath about how turnabout's fair play. He brought his hand down, spreading his release between my cheeks before bringing his hand up to his mouth, spitting into his palm, repeating the process--an utterly filthy sensation. My cock began to swell again with renewed interest, and I felt shame burning in my face from being so turned on by what had to be the textbook definition of a degrading act.
And then the sting of intrusion--his fingers working inside me, stretching the tight passage, stroking deep, seeking out. My hands sprung back up to the headboard, gripping tightly as he leaned over me, teeth assaulting skin. I screwed my eyes shut and imagined the picture we must've made--Gabe, fully clothed and bent over me, the fingers of one hand deep inside me as the other firmly tugged my cock. And me, naked and sweating beneath him, fists clenched tightly around the slats in the headboard, head spinning, thighs trembling, every hair on my body raised, gasping, thrashing--a man drowning on dry land. His fingers brushed that spot inside me and I canted my hips with a humiliating little whine in the back of my throat, bracing my hands against the headboard to push myself down onto his digits. Each pass of his fingers became firmer, pressing tight against the bundle of nerves, stroking steadily.
His mouth was suddenly on mine, his body pressed firmly against me, arm wedged between us as he continued to drive into me. He abandoned his grip on my cock, using that arm instead to brace himself against the mattress, taking some of his weight from me as he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, biting gently. "Could you come just from this?" he murmured against the skin of my jaw, "With just my fingers inside you?"
"I...I don't know," I gasped, my hips rocking down to meet the short, hard thrusts of his fingers--rolling of their own accord every time he stopped at the end of a thrust to rub firmly over my prostate. The wispy chiffon of his shirt tickled my over-sensitized skin, sticking slightly to my sweat.
"We can find out when we have more time." He stated matter-of-factly, lips once again moving against mine, tongue curling in my mouth.
"T-time?" I breathed into him.
"Mmm, have to finish up here before the restaurant closes." He pulled back, fixing me with a smouldering gaze, a curling grin, before dropping his head to whisper against the shell of my ear. "Touch yourself, Eli," he breathed. There was a beat, a short pause where my aching fingers uncurled from round the headboard and I brought my arm down to grasp myself, and then he was buzzing in my ear again. "Imagine it's me, yeah? That I'm inside you and I'm tuggin' you off while I fuck you into the mattress. And you've got your legs wrapped round me, yeah? Or I've got my lips round you, and you can feel the head of your cock sliding into my throat. Love the way you taste, Eli--"
Neck straining, head pressed back into the pillow, my back arched, hips rocking--I came, fist still stationary around the base of my cock. I gritted my teeth, dimly aware of the horrible grinding sound of it, like the prongs of a fork scraping a dinner plate. I was also vaguely aware of the fact that what started out as a groan, my teeth clamped firmly together at that point, turned into a harsh gasp when my mouth fell open. These aural threads wove themselves into a hole-gaped tapestry of single words and small phrases as he continued rubbing and pressing--milking me dry.
I came back to myself slowly, my body boneless and limp against the mattress, watching through heavily lidded eyes as Gabe bent to lick the cooling release from my stomach with a sly smirk. The muscles beneath his tongue tensed and released, my skin shuddering. My throat felt raw and rasping from panting so harshly; my limbs felt somehow both lead-heavy and detached.
"Guess that answers that question." He chuckled against my neck, wrapping my spent frame in his arms.
"What question?" Blinking, dazed, nothing made sense but the feel of my body pressed to his.
He laughed harder, pulling me closer. "Never mind, Eli." He pressed the words into the skin of my temple with his lips and I clung to him, letting him anchor me, letting his hands gently guide me back to reality. "Don't fall asleep."
"M'not," I mumbled back, attempting to stretch while still in his arms. "If I wasn't hungry before..."
"Want me to help you get cleaned up?" he asked cheekily, his hand snaking round my hip to knead my arse cheek.
"Might as well." I smirked against the crook of his neck, languidly sucking at the skin. He pulled back to look at me appraisingly, something guarded in his eyes before a grin broke his face. He pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to my lips before untangling his limbs from mine and moving to crawl out of bed. I grasped his wrist just as his feet hit the floor, leaving him bent awkwardly over the bed above me. "Gabe?"
"Yeah?"
"What, uh...I just realized..."
"Yeah?"
"I don't even know your surname."
He carefully extracted his wrist from my grip and linked our hands together, helping me pull myself up off the mattress. "Shepard," he stated simply, once I was steady on my feet.
Shepard, I thought. Yes. You kind of are.
********
The water clambering steadily through the pipes is a discordant symphony whose every note scrapes at the inside of Eli's skull. He wishes there were any way to be clean and fed and tucked cozily into their rented bed without expending the energy he no longer has. Leaned up against a small, bare patch of wall next to the sink, unsteady on weak limbs, he watches Gabe's bent form as he fiddles with the knobs on either side of the bathtub faucet. There's an exposed strip of pale flesh peeking out between the hem of his blouse and the waistband of his jeans, and Eli brings his heavy hand out to stroke across it. Neither one of them has said a word since since he asked Gabe about his surname, and the silence is starting to lay thick and heavy, seeping into the spaces between and around them. Gabe startles, jumping a bit under Eli's clumsy touch before grinning back at him over his shoulder.
He checks the temperature of the water a few more times before standing up, pulling his top off over his head in fluid motion. His arms are around Eli's waist, and he's up on his tiptoes to press his flat nose deep into the crook of his neck, their bare chests pressed flush. "You look like you could do with a smoke." His voice is soft, amused.
"Mm." Eli hums, letting the wall take more of his weight as he and Gabe hold each other, steam starting to swirl in the air around them.
"I'll get us one if you want," he breathes. Eli can feel his eyelashes fluttering against his neck with every blink.
"No smoking. We passed the sign on the way to the room." A laugh alights on his skin, Gabe's lips parting in a grin. "What?"
"That's cute."
"What?" Eli asks again. He attempts to pull back to look at Gabe, his confusion growing.
"All the shit we've done and you're worried about breaking the hotel's smoking policy."
Eli gives him a half-hearted scowl, jabbing him in the ribs with the blunt tip of his index finger. "Tub's gonna overflow."
Giving a parting kiss to his jaw, Gabe untangles himself from Eli and stoops to turn the water off. He holds his arms out, gesturing to the tub like a magician's assistant, and Eli laughs, shuffling forward and into the perfectly warm water. Eli watches as Gabe drops to his knees beside the tub, grabbing for the complementary bottle of shampoo.
"You're not getting in with me?" he asks, trying not to sound too disappointed.
"Not this time, mate," Gabe mumbles, attempting to tear at the plastic seal on the bottle with his teeth. He gives an almighty pull with his incisors, both hands wrapped tightly around the bottle, and squirts himself in the face with a projectile glob of shampoo. "GUH, aw, fuck!" he curses, wiping furiously at his face with the back of his hand before launching himself forward over the lip of the tub. He fills his mouth with tepid bath water and swishes it around his mouth, from one cheek to the other, rinsing suds from his mouth before spitting the foaming mess into the tub between Eli's knees.
"Hey!" Eli shouts, backing away from the lathery mess. "I'm trying to get clean here."
"S'just a little spit," Gabe laughs, hands coming out to stroke Eli's curls, "which, I might add, you've got up ya right now--among other things." Eli feels his cheeks colour and turns his face away as he shifts his arse uncomfortably against the bottom of the tub. "Hey," Gabe says softly, his fingers suddenly on Eli's jaw, attempting to turn his head back towards him. Eli relents, although his eyes aren't quite meeting Gabe's gaze as the smaller man leans over the tub to kiss him, his fingers sliding to Eli's nape. "I'm just takin' the mick, yeah? It was dead sexy what you did back there. You're sexy."
Eli can feel his cheeks burn hotter and keeps his mouth shut. Although knowing he hasn't made a complete fool out of himself is a consolation, it doesn't make him feel any less awkward. Gabe must know this, because the last thing he says to Eli is a simple "lean your head back so we can get your hair wet", before they lapse back into tentative silence, Eli allowing Gabe to wash his hair for him.
********
Gabe is crosslegged on the floor next to the bed, opening up one of the briefcases, and Eli wonders in an amused sort of way as he towels off his hair how Gabe can manage to sit like that in jeans that tight. He pulls a stack of cash from the briefcase and flops it up and down, up and down in Eli's general direction. "How much should I take out?"
Eli shrugs and drops the towel on the nightstand next to Gabe. He starts to button up his shirt, watching Gabe in his periphery. Gabe considers the stack of notes for a moment before peeling a few off the top, reaching up to tuck them into Eli's pocket. "How much do you owe, um...Mick?"
"Mike," Eli corrects, attempting to untangle his necklace from the buttons down the front of his henley. "I believe we're up to six thousand now."
Gabe makes a pained noise, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth. He peels note after note off a stack, counting each one out under his breath until there's a neat little stack on the carpet between them. "Better set this off to the side, then." He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful, before turning his face up towards Eli. "You might wanna call him to say you've got his money. Y'know. I'd prefer not to wake up to find you bludgeoned to death one morning."
"Fair enough." Eli retrieves his coat from the floor at the foot of the bed, plucking his mobile from his pocket and turning it on. There’s a few missed calls from Jen, but no messages, and he reminds himself to ring her back once he's worked up the courage. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds Michael's number and hits the appropriate button. It rings only a couple of times before Michael picks up.
"Hello?"
"Uh, y-yes, hi. It's Eli. I, um..." God, what's the correct protocol for this type of interaction?, he thinks, kicking himself for sounding so stupid and frightened. "I have your money. All of it."
"You do?" Eli's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. Michael actually sounds...surprised. He can't help but to feel delighted with himself as Gabe crawls to sit next to him on the floor. Flat on his arse, his head comes up to Eli's mid-thigh as his nimble fingers seach Eli's pockets for the cigarette packet. "Great. You can come by tomorrow to drop it off."
"Oh." Eli feels something within him shift slightly and start to sink. Gently, he slaps Gabe's searching hands away and sits down heavily on the foot of the bed. "I was kind of hoping I could maybe wire it to you. I'm not in the city at the moment because...um...something came up." He eyes Gabe, who grins back at him as he runs his thumb nail up and down the seam at the inside of Eli's knee.
"No, that won't do," Michael states flatly. "You are to bring it to me in person."
"Michael, listen. You don't understand--" But it's too late. The line goes dead against his ear. He sighs deeply and turns the phone off.
"Well?" Gabe asks, looking up at him from between his knees.
"He wants the money delivered to him. Like it's a pizza or something." Eli frowns down at him, watching as Gabe's features shift to match his own.
"Yeah. We won't be doin' that. That's fuckin' dodgy." Gabe stands and stretches, extending his hand for Eli to take. "Come on--let's eat."
Author: SaintLi
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Robber/Driver (Eli/Gabe)
Wordcount (this chapter): 4,402
Fandom: Mint Royale
Special Features: Some killer, mostly filler. (A lotta sex, some plot, essentially is what I'm trying to say)
08. Strength
"I promise you, no one judges me more harshly than I do myself; I caused a brilliant wreckage. Some say I fell from grace; they're being kind. I didn't fall--I dove."
--Sue Monk Kidd, The Mermaid Chair
I woke up in an unfamiliar car park three hours later, the car still on and the driver seat empty. My head felt fit to burst, a dizzying pressure building up and tugging at the seams. I took long, slow breaths through my nose, expelling them at the same pace through my mouth. My stomach growled loudly, gurgling uncomfortably. I realized Gabe and I had skipped lunch somewhere between dropping close to two grand at T.K. Maxx and the near-empty carpark that surrounded me. A motion in the corner of my eye caught my attention--Gabe coming out of the building we were parked behind, his jacket still unzipped. He strolled casually toward my side of the car, hands in his pockets, thumbs hooked into his belt loops.
I rolled down my window, which he promptly wedged his upper body through, wrapping his arms around my neck. "Got us another room," he breathed against my temple, "Help me bring our stuff up and we'll go eat, yeah?"
"Where are we?" I asked groggily, turning my face a fraction to nuzzle at his jaw.
"Stockton," he hummed, tipping his chin up, exposing his neck. I pressed my face into it, kissed him gently at the base of his throat and was rewarded by the sound of a small gasp. I tangled my fingers in his hair, about to kiss him again when his words finally sank in.
"Wait, Stockton?" I asked, pulling back, his hair still looped round my fingers, "As in Stockton-on-Tees?"
"One and the same," he murmured, fingers tugging at my jacket collar. I wanted to ask why Stockton, but found my mouth suddenly occupied--Gabe holding the back of my neck as he kissed me. "Let's bring the stuff up now, yeah?" he breathed against me, pressing a series of gentle kisses to my lips before carefully slipping back out through the window. I sighed, suddenly thankful for the long jacket I was wearing, and followed him out.
It took two trips, but we managed to get all our new clothes and the briefcases full of money up without completely freezing ourselves to death. I dropped Gabe's doctor's bag at the foot of the bed and blew hot puffs of air over my fingers, attempting to warm them. Gabe came out of the bathroom just then, and smirked at me. "Cold?" he asked, stepping towards me. I nodded, continuing my attempts at getting feeling back in my fingers. I heard him chuckle, watched as he reached out and pulled me closer by my belt loops. He grasped my hands and brought them behind him, pushing them into the back pockets of his jeans. "Better?"
"Y-yeah," I stuttered, my fingers twitching against the rough denim.
"G'on," he urged softly, his nose bumping against my jaw. I gave his arse an experimental squeeze, coaxing a little hum from his mouth. I groped a bit harder and he laughed, pressing his hips into mine. "That's it." He rocked into me, his fingers threading the buttons on my jacket through. "You wearin' 'em?"
"What?" I rasped, still kneading the firm flesh of his bottom, my heart beating faster as he stripped my jacket from me, fingers grasping the hem of my shirt. I hesitantly pulled my hand from his pockets, lifting my arms to better allow the shirt to be peeled from me. My necklace was cold as ice as it landed softly on my bare skin. My hands immediately shot back to his arse, which made him chuckle.
"The pants," he smirked, leaning in to kiss me, "Are you wearin' the pants?" He kissed and licked his way down my neck, the question getting lost for a moment between the feel of his erection pressing into me through the fabric of our trousers and nip of his teeth against my collarbone.
"Yes," I hissed through gritted teeth as he bit and sucked my nipple to hardness, "I am."
I felt him grin against my skin before he pulled back, his gaze dark and heavy upon my face. "C'mon, lemme see."
Blushing, I toed my boots off, unfastened my jeans with trembling fingers. I could feel him watching intently, his gaze traveling over me as my heart beat faster, my cock twitching against its restriction. I pushed the jeans down off my hips and stepped out of them, standing there awkwardly as his eyes roamed over me, appraising. He tongued the point of his canine tooth and stepped closer, nodding to himself. He circled round me, fingers dancing across my skin.
"Were you right?" I asked finally, as his hands stroked over my shoulders and down my back.
"I usually am, mate," he chuckled, hands coming round to stroke me though the pants. I made some embarrassing, involuntary noise in the back of my throat, pressing my hips forward into his palm. He laughed softly once more, pinched my backside with his free hand. "Get on the bed. On your back, yeah?"
I did as I was asked, crawling onto the middle of the bed with slightly shaking limbs, flipping onto my back. My pants stuck to the head of my erection, where it was leaking steadily. I wondered somewhere in the still-functioning part of my mind what he'd do to me, my skin buzzing with the premonition of possible touches. He kept his eyes on me as he peeled off his jacket. It made a dull thump against the floor where it fell as he toed off his boots and reached forward, yanked my socks off and threw them down with the rest of my clothes. He grasped my ankles, pulling my legs part to crawl between. Laying on his stomach, propped up on an elbow, face centimetres from my groin, he leered up at me, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. His hand came out to stroke me again, the touch muted through the soft fabric, his fingers dipping lower to brush over my testicles.
"You've been gaggin' for it all day, haven't ya?" he asked softly, dropping his head to mouth at me through the pants. I cursed low under my breath, hips jerking towards the wet heat of his mouth as I grasped the headboard, afraid if I touched him, I'd hurt him. "Haven't ya?" he asked again, the vibration of the question buzzing against me.
"Yes, yes." My grip tightened on the slats of the headboard, lifting my hips as he prised my pants down. My cock lolled full and heavy against my stomach, a thin string of precum stretching between my skin and the head, and then breaking as Gabe gave me a few long, slow strokes. My every nerve felt like the physical embodiment of radio static as he gently pushed back my foreskin, licked around the head. My legs moved of their own volition, feet rubbing against the duvet beneath us. My toe brushed his denim clad thigh, and before I could think, I found myself asking, "Why aren't you naked?"
It might've been a sexy question, if I hadn't sounded like a confused toddler. Gabe pulled off me with a pop and cackled loudly. "You're eager, ain't ya?" He sat up and repositioned himself, a bony knee on either side of my hips. Looming above, I saw his eyes flick briefly to my hands--still grasping the headboard--before trailing down my body. "Look at ya," he all but purred, hands roving across my chest. "I bet," he continued softly, eyes following the trail of his fingers, "When people see us out together, they think it's you what would be in my position, yeah? They'd think I'd be the one on my back, all pleadin' with my eyes, heart beatin' out my chest." My cock twitched; he noticed, and grinned wider.
I watched him squeeze himself through his jeans, fingertips dancing along his length, his eyes still locked on mine as he popped the button on his skinnies, pulled the zip. I found myself letting go of the headboard to lean up on my elbows. The smell of him--that car smell of motor oil and leather, his cologne, the musky scent of his excitement--made my mouth water as he pulled himself free, his erection jutting out between flaps of fabric. I watched my hand trail up his thigh, my fingers trembling. His hands were in my hair, tugging gently, stroking through my curls. I grasped the base of his cock, my 'wedding ring' glinting back at me in the soft illumination of the bedside lamp. He knee-walked closer to me, the rise and fall of his stomach with each shallow breath visible through his poor excuse of a shirt--the skulls grinning at me.
"You get off on it, don't ya?" he asked softly. His hand came down and grasped my wrist. I watched as he moved my hand and up and down along his length, stopping just shy of the head each time. He let go of my wrist, and I continued the pace he'd set, surprised when he then placed his fingers lightly over my knuckles like a hand on an Ouija board planchette. "You're always hidin' stuff away, yeah? And this is just another form of that. And it makes it that much more exciting, knowing you could pin me down and fuck me senseless. But you can't, can you?"
He was right, of course. It was exciting, not knowing what would happen next. And more than that, these moments spent with him where I was placed firmly in the passenger's seat--literally and figuratively--where I didn't have to make any decisions, just let myself be driven along winding roads without even the benefit of a map… these were the moments where I felt freer than I'd ever been in my life. And yet underneath all this safety and freedom was a hesitancy that wouldn't let me reach out and pull him to me by the belt loops, to boss him around, to be inside him. If I act upon my desire for another man, that's a sin. If Gabe takes control of the situation, he becomes a thing that happens to me.
"No," I answered in a whisper. His fingers slipped from my knuckles down to the head of his cock, collecting the precum beaded there. He pressed his moist fingertips to my bottom lip and I opened up, the salty tang of him strange and thrilling. I sucked his fingers clean, watched his gaze darken, felt him twitch against my palm. And I thought… this is power. I inched forward, licked across his slit with my flattened tongue, and heard him expel a puff of air through parted lips. His fingers tightened in my hair as I gently took the head of his cock in my mouth, unsure what to do about my teeth. I swirled my tongue around him and sucked, glancing up to watch his face for any signs as to what I should be doing.
"Fuck, Eli," he breathed, eyes flickering closed for a moment before his gaze locked back onto mine. A breathless laugh ghosted past his lips, disbelief evident on his face as he held my gaze. "I didn't...I didn't think you'd actually..." He trailed off, head dropping back. I watched the bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed back moans, thrusting shallowly into my mouth. My neck and shoulders started to ache from the uncomfortable position we were in, but I couldn't tear myself away--as much a victim to his surrender as he was. I swallowed around him and his hips jerked involuntarily, pushing forcefully into the back of my throat. I gagged, tears in my eyes as he apologized breathlessly, his fingers tugging at my curls as he resumed his carefully controlled thrusts into my mouth. His breathing was labored--sharp gasps between groaned expletives and praises, and promises to make me come so hard I'd see stars.
He pulled free from me, suddenly, one hand cupped before his erection as he stroked himself--once, twice, three times--before coming with a loud groan. His eyes were glassy and unfocussed as he slumped forward slightly, his clean hand pushing me back into the mattress, where my shoulders landed with a heavy thump. I watched as he tucked himself away with the graceless speed of the over-eager before shuffling back, kneeling between my knees. He spread my legs wider, instructing me to pull a knee up to my chest, muttering under his breath about how turnabout's fair play. He brought his hand down, spreading his release between my cheeks before bringing his hand up to his mouth, spitting into his palm, repeating the process--an utterly filthy sensation. My cock began to swell again with renewed interest, and I felt shame burning in my face from being so turned on by what had to be the textbook definition of a degrading act.
And then the sting of intrusion--his fingers working inside me, stretching the tight passage, stroking deep, seeking out. My hands sprung back up to the headboard, gripping tightly as he leaned over me, teeth assaulting skin. I screwed my eyes shut and imagined the picture we must've made--Gabe, fully clothed and bent over me, the fingers of one hand deep inside me as the other firmly tugged my cock. And me, naked and sweating beneath him, fists clenched tightly around the slats in the headboard, head spinning, thighs trembling, every hair on my body raised, gasping, thrashing--a man drowning on dry land. His fingers brushed that spot inside me and I canted my hips with a humiliating little whine in the back of my throat, bracing my hands against the headboard to push myself down onto his digits. Each pass of his fingers became firmer, pressing tight against the bundle of nerves, stroking steadily.
His mouth was suddenly on mine, his body pressed firmly against me, arm wedged between us as he continued to drive into me. He abandoned his grip on my cock, using that arm instead to brace himself against the mattress, taking some of his weight from me as he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, biting gently. "Could you come just from this?" he murmured against the skin of my jaw, "With just my fingers inside you?"
"I...I don't know," I gasped, my hips rocking down to meet the short, hard thrusts of his fingers--rolling of their own accord every time he stopped at the end of a thrust to rub firmly over my prostate. The wispy chiffon of his shirt tickled my over-sensitized skin, sticking slightly to my sweat.
"We can find out when we have more time." He stated matter-of-factly, lips once again moving against mine, tongue curling in my mouth.
"T-time?" I breathed into him.
"Mmm, have to finish up here before the restaurant closes." He pulled back, fixing me with a smouldering gaze, a curling grin, before dropping his head to whisper against the shell of my ear. "Touch yourself, Eli," he breathed. There was a beat, a short pause where my aching fingers uncurled from round the headboard and I brought my arm down to grasp myself, and then he was buzzing in my ear again. "Imagine it's me, yeah? That I'm inside you and I'm tuggin' you off while I fuck you into the mattress. And you've got your legs wrapped round me, yeah? Or I've got my lips round you, and you can feel the head of your cock sliding into my throat. Love the way you taste, Eli--"
Neck straining, head pressed back into the pillow, my back arched, hips rocking--I came, fist still stationary around the base of my cock. I gritted my teeth, dimly aware of the horrible grinding sound of it, like the prongs of a fork scraping a dinner plate. I was also vaguely aware of the fact that what started out as a groan, my teeth clamped firmly together at that point, turned into a harsh gasp when my mouth fell open. These aural threads wove themselves into a hole-gaped tapestry of single words and small phrases as he continued rubbing and pressing--milking me dry.
I came back to myself slowly, my body boneless and limp against the mattress, watching through heavily lidded eyes as Gabe bent to lick the cooling release from my stomach with a sly smirk. The muscles beneath his tongue tensed and released, my skin shuddering. My throat felt raw and rasping from panting so harshly; my limbs felt somehow both lead-heavy and detached.
"Guess that answers that question." He chuckled against my neck, wrapping my spent frame in his arms.
"What question?" Blinking, dazed, nothing made sense but the feel of my body pressed to his.
He laughed harder, pulling me closer. "Never mind, Eli." He pressed the words into the skin of my temple with his lips and I clung to him, letting him anchor me, letting his hands gently guide me back to reality. "Don't fall asleep."
"M'not," I mumbled back, attempting to stretch while still in his arms. "If I wasn't hungry before..."
"Want me to help you get cleaned up?" he asked cheekily, his hand snaking round my hip to knead my arse cheek.
"Might as well." I smirked against the crook of his neck, languidly sucking at the skin. He pulled back to look at me appraisingly, something guarded in his eyes before a grin broke his face. He pressed a sweet, gentle kiss to my lips before untangling his limbs from mine and moving to crawl out of bed. I grasped his wrist just as his feet hit the floor, leaving him bent awkwardly over the bed above me. "Gabe?"
"Yeah?"
"What, uh...I just realized..."
"Yeah?"
"I don't even know your surname."
He carefully extracted his wrist from my grip and linked our hands together, helping me pull myself up off the mattress. "Shepard," he stated simply, once I was steady on my feet.
Shepard, I thought. Yes. You kind of are.
********
The water clambering steadily through the pipes is a discordant symphony whose every note scrapes at the inside of Eli's skull. He wishes there were any way to be clean and fed and tucked cozily into their rented bed without expending the energy he no longer has. Leaned up against a small, bare patch of wall next to the sink, unsteady on weak limbs, he watches Gabe's bent form as he fiddles with the knobs on either side of the bathtub faucet. There's an exposed strip of pale flesh peeking out between the hem of his blouse and the waistband of his jeans, and Eli brings his heavy hand out to stroke across it. Neither one of them has said a word since since he asked Gabe about his surname, and the silence is starting to lay thick and heavy, seeping into the spaces between and around them. Gabe startles, jumping a bit under Eli's clumsy touch before grinning back at him over his shoulder.
He checks the temperature of the water a few more times before standing up, pulling his top off over his head in fluid motion. His arms are around Eli's waist, and he's up on his tiptoes to press his flat nose deep into the crook of his neck, their bare chests pressed flush. "You look like you could do with a smoke." His voice is soft, amused.
"Mm." Eli hums, letting the wall take more of his weight as he and Gabe hold each other, steam starting to swirl in the air around them.
"I'll get us one if you want," he breathes. Eli can feel his eyelashes fluttering against his neck with every blink.
"No smoking. We passed the sign on the way to the room." A laugh alights on his skin, Gabe's lips parting in a grin. "What?"
"That's cute."
"What?" Eli asks again. He attempts to pull back to look at Gabe, his confusion growing.
"All the shit we've done and you're worried about breaking the hotel's smoking policy."
Eli gives him a half-hearted scowl, jabbing him in the ribs with the blunt tip of his index finger. "Tub's gonna overflow."
Giving a parting kiss to his jaw, Gabe untangles himself from Eli and stoops to turn the water off. He holds his arms out, gesturing to the tub like a magician's assistant, and Eli laughs, shuffling forward and into the perfectly warm water. Eli watches as Gabe drops to his knees beside the tub, grabbing for the complementary bottle of shampoo.
"You're not getting in with me?" he asks, trying not to sound too disappointed.
"Not this time, mate," Gabe mumbles, attempting to tear at the plastic seal on the bottle with his teeth. He gives an almighty pull with his incisors, both hands wrapped tightly around the bottle, and squirts himself in the face with a projectile glob of shampoo. "GUH, aw, fuck!" he curses, wiping furiously at his face with the back of his hand before launching himself forward over the lip of the tub. He fills his mouth with tepid bath water and swishes it around his mouth, from one cheek to the other, rinsing suds from his mouth before spitting the foaming mess into the tub between Eli's knees.
"Hey!" Eli shouts, backing away from the lathery mess. "I'm trying to get clean here."
"S'just a little spit," Gabe laughs, hands coming out to stroke Eli's curls, "which, I might add, you've got up ya right now--among other things." Eli feels his cheeks colour and turns his face away as he shifts his arse uncomfortably against the bottom of the tub. "Hey," Gabe says softly, his fingers suddenly on Eli's jaw, attempting to turn his head back towards him. Eli relents, although his eyes aren't quite meeting Gabe's gaze as the smaller man leans over the tub to kiss him, his fingers sliding to Eli's nape. "I'm just takin' the mick, yeah? It was dead sexy what you did back there. You're sexy."
Eli can feel his cheeks burn hotter and keeps his mouth shut. Although knowing he hasn't made a complete fool out of himself is a consolation, it doesn't make him feel any less awkward. Gabe must know this, because the last thing he says to Eli is a simple "lean your head back so we can get your hair wet", before they lapse back into tentative silence, Eli allowing Gabe to wash his hair for him.
********
Gabe is crosslegged on the floor next to the bed, opening up one of the briefcases, and Eli wonders in an amused sort of way as he towels off his hair how Gabe can manage to sit like that in jeans that tight. He pulls a stack of cash from the briefcase and flops it up and down, up and down in Eli's general direction. "How much should I take out?"
Eli shrugs and drops the towel on the nightstand next to Gabe. He starts to button up his shirt, watching Gabe in his periphery. Gabe considers the stack of notes for a moment before peeling a few off the top, reaching up to tuck them into Eli's pocket. "How much do you owe, um...Mick?"
"Mike," Eli corrects, attempting to untangle his necklace from the buttons down the front of his henley. "I believe we're up to six thousand now."
Gabe makes a pained noise, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth. He peels note after note off a stack, counting each one out under his breath until there's a neat little stack on the carpet between them. "Better set this off to the side, then." He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful, before turning his face up towards Eli. "You might wanna call him to say you've got his money. Y'know. I'd prefer not to wake up to find you bludgeoned to death one morning."
"Fair enough." Eli retrieves his coat from the floor at the foot of the bed, plucking his mobile from his pocket and turning it on. There’s a few missed calls from Jen, but no messages, and he reminds himself to ring her back once he's worked up the courage. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds Michael's number and hits the appropriate button. It rings only a couple of times before Michael picks up.
"Hello?"
"Uh, y-yes, hi. It's Eli. I, um..." God, what's the correct protocol for this type of interaction?, he thinks, kicking himself for sounding so stupid and frightened. "I have your money. All of it."
"You do?" Eli's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. Michael actually sounds...surprised. He can't help but to feel delighted with himself as Gabe crawls to sit next to him on the floor. Flat on his arse, his head comes up to Eli's mid-thigh as his nimble fingers seach Eli's pockets for the cigarette packet. "Great. You can come by tomorrow to drop it off."
"Oh." Eli feels something within him shift slightly and start to sink. Gently, he slaps Gabe's searching hands away and sits down heavily on the foot of the bed. "I was kind of hoping I could maybe wire it to you. I'm not in the city at the moment because...um...something came up." He eyes Gabe, who grins back at him as he runs his thumb nail up and down the seam at the inside of Eli's knee.
"No, that won't do," Michael states flatly. "You are to bring it to me in person."
"Michael, listen. You don't understand--" But it's too late. The line goes dead against his ear. He sighs deeply and turns the phone off.
"Well?" Gabe asks, looking up at him from between his knees.
"He wants the money delivered to him. Like it's a pizza or something." Eli frowns down at him, watching as Gabe's features shift to match his own.
"Yeah. We won't be doin' that. That's fuckin' dodgy." Gabe stands and stretches, extending his hand for Eli to take. "Come on--let's eat."