Bank Shot 5: Gimme Shelter
Pairing & Genre: Jack/Ennis, Au!au
Rating: R - for cussing and brief backseat action.
Summary: Jack and Ennis hooked up during a bank deposit and discovered they like the same kinks. The story picks up after a very successful date at the Iguana Lounge where both Jack and Ennis discovered that The Rolling Stones binds many people together. This story was originally a four-part LoveFest entry and has since been renamed Bank Shot. Prior chapters are here.
Thanks: To my darling betas: poppyhoney_67 and
noreins . I fired this off to them this afternoon, minutes after I wrote it, and they had it back to me in an hour. I'm so lucky to have such talented writers on my team.
Dedication: To Susan. I wanted something nice waiting for you when you came home. I'll leave the porch light on.
A/N: Surprise! I don't know what it is about SlashLand but I must have some kind of oppositional deficit disorder whenever I'm here because I always end up doing the opposite of what I say. Sam literally nudged me awake last night and told me to get up and write this and post it as soon as possible. I tried to explain to him that I was working on my other story but he would not be swayed. Sorry, folks, I guess the Sexy Barn Dance will have to wait. I'm merely a scribe.
Bank Shot 5: Gimme Shelter
Jack put his arm around Ennis’s waist, hooking his thumb on one of Ennis’s belt loops. He tested the weight of Ennis’s arm around his shoulders and decided he could definitely carry this yoke. In fact, he felt like he was being wrapped up in a fleece blanket, but from the inside out. The heat started from somewhere around, say, his heart…and travelled all the way out until he was convinced even his fingernails could melt iron. He changed his mind, screw the belt loop, and put his hand inside Ennis’s back pocket instead. Oh yeah, that was more like it. Happiness is a warm heart and a warm hand on Ennis del Mar’s ass. Somewhere in his brain a calypso band was singing: Ole, ole, ole, ole, feelin’ hot hot hot.
He spotted Sam’s car and used hand-ass co-ordination to lead Ennis there. Although it took a while because they had to stop every few steps to kiss each other. Or gaze longingly in each other’s eyes. Or exchange man-giggles, gruff chuckles that are kind of flirty, and kind of horny, and mostly just grunts of joy just for the hell of it.
As they approached the car, he saw Sam get out and lean against it, arms crossed. The minute they got within earshot Sam called out, “You two better take that shit elsewhere because I’m not pimping my ride, if you catch my meaning. And quit with the High School Musical lovey dovey crap. It's setting off my gag alert."
“Yeah, yeah, relax,” Jack called back.
“I mean Tide to Go gets out a lot of things but it can’t take out some of the permanent images you two already subjected me to.”
“Hey, now, you got some nerve bringing that up when it was you going all Mother Goose…”
“Only because you’re letting this guy pull all the strings and you don’t know thing one about him…”
“Right,” Ennis said calmly, but with just enough emphasis to make it sound like a command. “Thing one: I pay my taxes,” he said, reaching out to shake Sam’s hand. “Thing two: I am not an axe-murderer. And thing three: I suck at Guitar Hero.”
Jack watched Sam carefully, relieved to see some of the tension leave his best friend’s face. He saw a quick flicker of amusement flash in Sam’s eyes before Sam leaned forward and declared, “I own Guitar Hero.”
Ennis nodded solemnly. “I thought you might.”
Jack rolled his eyes and whispered theatrically, as Sam turned his back to get in the car, “He does not.”
“Do too,” Sam countered sulkily.
“In your dreams,” said Jack as he got into the back seat with Ennis.
“You have never been able to accept the fact that I rock and you suck.”
Jack gulped down his next insult when Ennis cleared his throat pointedly. So he turned to Ennis instead, fluttered his eyelashes and said, sotto voice, “You’re my guitar hero.”
Ennis pulled him close and growled in his ear, “Well, then you can suck me all you want.”
“Christ Jesus, ears! I have ears!” Sam whined as everyone buckled in.
Jack and Ennis exchanged more man-giggles, then scooted together as close as their seat belts would allow, well within nuzzling range.
“Sam, we’re heading back to my place.”
“Well that’s a relief. I had visions of you guys heading off to party in another Willy Wanker’s Leather Emporium. Holy, you should see some of the outfits making their way into that club.”
“Well, hello Sam, we were in that club so we kinda have an idea.”
“But, I thought you said the hard-core stuff happened downstairs and you’d be upstairs.”
“Let’s just say, some of the dark side denizens made their way upstairs,” Jack said, exchanging a mock-stern look with Ennis.
Ennis shrugged. “I’ll introduce you to Phillip and Gordon some time, under more, uh, clothed circumstances.”
“Yeah, and maybe Phillip can shake my hand instead of lick my dick,” Jack muttered.
“Lick your…you let him…what in the blue fuck is your brain damage, Jack Twist!” Sam sputtered, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look back at Jack.
Both Jack and Ennis were glad they had their seat belts on when Sam realized they’d gone into the wrong lane and had to swerve sharply in order to avoid being hit by oncoming traffic.
“I’ll show you brain damage if you don’t settle down and keep your eyes on the road! You’re driving a moving vehicle, Sam, what the hell’s your problem!” Jack yelled.
“My problem is I don’t like you letting strange men paw at you like you’re some piece of meat!” Sam yelled back.
“Well, you got no choice in it, do you? I can do whatever the hell I want, with whoever I want, with whatever body parts I have.”
“Well, that’s whack, Jack, and you know it.”
“What I do know is you’re being a fucking asshole and maybe you should just pull over so we can take a cab the rest of the way home.”
“You want me to?”
“I just said it, didn’t I?”
“Oh I’d be glad to. Then maybe we could step outside and I could strangle you until your eyeballs pop out and then I could ram your eyes down your throat until you choke on your own eyeballs, you fucktard."
“Huh, not before I rip your head off so I could climb in through the gaping hole in your neck and kick your ass from the inside, you asswipe."
“Okay, guys,” Ennis interjected, “this has gone on long enough.”
For the first time in fifteen minutes, both Sam and Jack agreed on something. They both directed a short, “You stay out of it,” to Ennis and proceeded to growl at each other until Sam pulled over and put the car in park.
Jack unbuckled his seat belt and was about to get out of the car when he felt Ennis’s hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t do it, Jack. You step out of this car and you’re gonna lose,” Ennis said, quietly.
“Hell with that, I can take him. He may look big but…”
“No, Jack. You’re gonna lose something that will take a long time to fix. It’s not worth it.”
“You’re worth it, Ennis.”
“No, Jack,” Sam whispered, “you’re worth it. You’re worth it.” Jack looked up, anger disappearing, meeting Sam’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “That’s all I’m trying to say. All this time I’ve watched you hold out, keep yourself from getting too deep with other guys because you’ve been waiting. Waiting for the one who’s gonna fill you up.” Sam turned around so he could angle himself to look Jack in the eye.
“And I know who emptied you out, too. I know it. All this time you stood by me, making sure I didn’t choke on my own puke, putting a blanket on me when I had the shakes, letting me hurl more than insults at you when you hid my car keys. You stood by me when I stank of whiskey and piss and not even Lucille wanted anything to do with me,” Sam took a deep breath, wiping at his eyes quickly before continuing. “You stood by me. But I saw what it did to you, man. I saw.”
Jack shook his head. “No, man, shut up.” His breathing was starting to get shaky, and it steadied him when Ennis took his hand.
“It emptied you out, Jack, what happened. You gave and gave and I know you’d do it again in a heartbeat, but…”
“Sam, c’mon, that’s not what…”
“…you’re still doing it, still giving. You could do so much more than work security at the bank, but you stay at the job because you’re making sure I’m not slipping out at lunch time. Or going out for a few beers after work. You think I don’t see that, Jack? You think I don’t know who made you this way? And I want to stop it, I do, but I don’t know how, and I’m afraid you don’t know how to, either. I’m scared shitless you’re gonna let your tank go empty because you don’t know how to do anything else.” Sam broke eye contact with Jack for a second, looking briefly at Ennis. “And I’m not sure he’s the one, Jack, the one to fill you up again.”
The inside of the car was engulfed in silence, Jack lost in thoughts and feelings and words lost in the lump in his throat. It felt like forever before he could figure out a way to respond.
“Sam, I get what you’re saying, and I'm down with that, I really am. But if you’re really wanting me to break away, if you really do, then you gotta back off and let me, man. If this isn’t what I think it is, I ain’t gonna fall apart. And if I do, I know you’ll stand by me. Right?”
Sam met his eyes again and nodded slowly, “Damn straight.”
Jack smiled at Sam. “Actually, news flash, not straight.” Sam smiled back. Jack let out a sigh, knowing they were back on track.
“Shit. You guys got a Kleenex around here? I’m just a mess,” Ennis deadpanned, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.
Sam reached out and tried to cuff Ennis on the back of the head while Jack jabbed him in the stomach. After a quick tussle, and plenty of relieved laughter, they were back on the road.
“Well, glad that’s all cleared up because you’re a pretty shitty Kevin Costner,” Jack told the back of Sam’s head.
“Well, you ain’t no Whitney Houston, I can tell you that.”
“I don’t know, I think he’d look hot in a sparkly, sleeveless dress,” Ennis teased, pulling Jack closer for a quick kiss. “All those bulging…uh…bulges.” Ennis reached down and began to rub Jack’s considerable bulging bulge, nibbling on his neck.
Jack proceeded to respond in kind, stroking the ridge of Ennis’s shaft through his jeans. He looked down and hissed when he saw the top button on Ennis’s jeans had popped open, and he could see the red tip of Ennis’s cock.
He was just about to lean down, tongue first, when Sam called out, “Clay Aiken! Jesus, you guys.”
Ennis’s hand stilled, a puzzled expression on his face.
Jack rolled his eyes. “It’s his safe word. Clay Aiken.”
“Oh,” said Ennis, slowly taking his hand away from Jack’s crotch.
“Yeah,” Jack answered regretfully, buttoning Ennis’s jeans. But only after slyly rubbing his finger along the tip of Ennis’s cock
“Well I don’t know about Clay, but I’m sure achin’,” Ennis declared, shifting in his seat.
Both Jack and Sam groaned before dissolving into laughter, shaking their heads in disgust.
“Dude, you’re all right,” Sam said, reaching out to adjust the rearview mirror so he could look at Ennis when he said this.
“Well, I'd like to rip one of your ribs outta your chest and stab you in the back with it, you dipshit.” Ennis grumbled.
Sam gave Ennis an approving grin before re-adjusting the mirror. He then turned the car CD player on.
“Sorry, boys, no romantic make-out music in this car. Musta left my Michael Bolton’s Greatest Hits in the loveshack. Just some old fashioned Rolling Stones,” Sam declared smugly, cranking up Gimme Shelter.
Jack groaned again, leaning his head back and covering his face with his arm. “Have mercy,” he moaned, the familiar sound of Mick Jagger’s voice bringing him back to another song and a crowded dance floor and the hot pulsating smell of sex and leather. He looked over at Ennis and he could tell from the shallow way Ennis was breathing that he wasn’t the only one taking a trip down memory lane.
They shared a secret smile, barely supressing their man-giggles, and reached out to clasp hands. Jack closed his eyes and lost himself in the music, letting the warmth of the man beside him fill him up. He smiled when he felt a light kiss on his lips.
Love…it’s just a kiss away.
Jack agreed. Yes, it is, Mick, got that right.
TBC, probably during another night of insomnia.
Rating: R - for cussing and brief backseat action.
Summary: Jack and Ennis hooked up during a bank deposit and discovered they like the same kinks. The story picks up after a very successful date at the Iguana Lounge where both Jack and Ennis discovered that The Rolling Stones binds many people together. This story was originally a four-part LoveFest entry and has since been renamed Bank Shot. Prior chapters are here.
Thanks: To my darling betas: poppyhoney_67 and
noreins . I fired this off to them this afternoon, minutes after I wrote it, and they had it back to me in an hour. I'm so lucky to have such talented writers on my team.
Dedication: To Susan. I wanted something nice waiting for you when you came home. I'll leave the porch light on.
A/N: Surprise! I don't know what it is about SlashLand but I must have some kind of oppositional deficit disorder whenever I'm here because I always end up doing the opposite of what I say. Sam literally nudged me awake last night and told me to get up and write this and post it as soon as possible. I tried to explain to him that I was working on my other story but he would not be swayed. Sorry, folks, I guess the Sexy Barn Dance will have to wait. I'm merely a scribe.
Bank Shot 5: Gimme Shelter
Jack put his arm around Ennis’s waist, hooking his thumb on one of Ennis’s belt loops. He tested the weight of Ennis’s arm around his shoulders and decided he could definitely carry this yoke. In fact, he felt like he was being wrapped up in a fleece blanket, but from the inside out. The heat started from somewhere around, say, his heart…and travelled all the way out until he was convinced even his fingernails could melt iron. He changed his mind, screw the belt loop, and put his hand inside Ennis’s back pocket instead. Oh yeah, that was more like it. Happiness is a warm heart and a warm hand on Ennis del Mar’s ass. Somewhere in his brain a calypso band was singing: Ole, ole, ole, ole, feelin’ hot hot hot.
He spotted Sam’s car and used hand-ass co-ordination to lead Ennis there. Although it took a while because they had to stop every few steps to kiss each other. Or gaze longingly in each other’s eyes. Or exchange man-giggles, gruff chuckles that are kind of flirty, and kind of horny, and mostly just grunts of joy just for the hell of it.
As they approached the car, he saw Sam get out and lean against it, arms crossed. The minute they got within earshot Sam called out, “You two better take that shit elsewhere because I’m not pimping my ride, if you catch my meaning. And quit with the High School Musical lovey dovey crap. It's setting off my gag alert."
“Yeah, yeah, relax,” Jack called back.
“I mean Tide to Go gets out a lot of things but it can’t take out some of the permanent images you two already subjected me to.”
“Hey, now, you got some nerve bringing that up when it was you going all Mother Goose…”
“Only because you’re letting this guy pull all the strings and you don’t know thing one about him…”
“Right,” Ennis said calmly, but with just enough emphasis to make it sound like a command. “Thing one: I pay my taxes,” he said, reaching out to shake Sam’s hand. “Thing two: I am not an axe-murderer. And thing three: I suck at Guitar Hero.”
Jack watched Sam carefully, relieved to see some of the tension leave his best friend’s face. He saw a quick flicker of amusement flash in Sam’s eyes before Sam leaned forward and declared, “I own Guitar Hero.”
Ennis nodded solemnly. “I thought you might.”
Jack rolled his eyes and whispered theatrically, as Sam turned his back to get in the car, “He does not.”
“Do too,” Sam countered sulkily.
“In your dreams,” said Jack as he got into the back seat with Ennis.
“You have never been able to accept the fact that I rock and you suck.”
Jack gulped down his next insult when Ennis cleared his throat pointedly. So he turned to Ennis instead, fluttered his eyelashes and said, sotto voice, “You’re my guitar hero.”
Ennis pulled him close and growled in his ear, “Well, then you can suck me all you want.”
“Christ Jesus, ears! I have ears!” Sam whined as everyone buckled in.
Jack and Ennis exchanged more man-giggles, then scooted together as close as their seat belts would allow, well within nuzzling range.
“Sam, we’re heading back to my place.”
“Well that’s a relief. I had visions of you guys heading off to party in another Willy Wanker’s Leather Emporium. Holy, you should see some of the outfits making their way into that club.”
“Well, hello Sam, we were in that club so we kinda have an idea.”
“But, I thought you said the hard-core stuff happened downstairs and you’d be upstairs.”
“Let’s just say, some of the dark side denizens made their way upstairs,” Jack said, exchanging a mock-stern look with Ennis.
Ennis shrugged. “I’ll introduce you to Phillip and Gordon some time, under more, uh, clothed circumstances.”
“Yeah, and maybe Phillip can shake my hand instead of lick my dick,” Jack muttered.
“Lick your…you let him…what in the blue fuck is your brain damage, Jack Twist!” Sam sputtered, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look back at Jack.
Both Jack and Ennis were glad they had their seat belts on when Sam realized they’d gone into the wrong lane and had to swerve sharply in order to avoid being hit by oncoming traffic.
“I’ll show you brain damage if you don’t settle down and keep your eyes on the road! You’re driving a moving vehicle, Sam, what the hell’s your problem!” Jack yelled.
“My problem is I don’t like you letting strange men paw at you like you’re some piece of meat!” Sam yelled back.
“Well, you got no choice in it, do you? I can do whatever the hell I want, with whoever I want, with whatever body parts I have.”
“Well, that’s whack, Jack, and you know it.”
“What I do know is you’re being a fucking asshole and maybe you should just pull over so we can take a cab the rest of the way home.”
“You want me to?”
“I just said it, didn’t I?”
“Oh I’d be glad to. Then maybe we could step outside and I could strangle you until your eyeballs pop out and then I could ram your eyes down your throat until you choke on your own eyeballs, you fucktard."
“Huh, not before I rip your head off so I could climb in through the gaping hole in your neck and kick your ass from the inside, you asswipe."
“Okay, guys,” Ennis interjected, “this has gone on long enough.”
For the first time in fifteen minutes, both Sam and Jack agreed on something. They both directed a short, “You stay out of it,” to Ennis and proceeded to growl at each other until Sam pulled over and put the car in park.
Jack unbuckled his seat belt and was about to get out of the car when he felt Ennis’s hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t do it, Jack. You step out of this car and you’re gonna lose,” Ennis said, quietly.
“Hell with that, I can take him. He may look big but…”
“No, Jack. You’re gonna lose something that will take a long time to fix. It’s not worth it.”
“You’re worth it, Ennis.”
“No, Jack,” Sam whispered, “you’re worth it. You’re worth it.” Jack looked up, anger disappearing, meeting Sam’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “That’s all I’m trying to say. All this time I’ve watched you hold out, keep yourself from getting too deep with other guys because you’ve been waiting. Waiting for the one who’s gonna fill you up.” Sam turned around so he could angle himself to look Jack in the eye.
“And I know who emptied you out, too. I know it. All this time you stood by me, making sure I didn’t choke on my own puke, putting a blanket on me when I had the shakes, letting me hurl more than insults at you when you hid my car keys. You stood by me when I stank of whiskey and piss and not even Lucille wanted anything to do with me,” Sam took a deep breath, wiping at his eyes quickly before continuing. “You stood by me. But I saw what it did to you, man. I saw.”
Jack shook his head. “No, man, shut up.” His breathing was starting to get shaky, and it steadied him when Ennis took his hand.
“It emptied you out, Jack, what happened. You gave and gave and I know you’d do it again in a heartbeat, but…”
“Sam, c’mon, that’s not what…”
“…you’re still doing it, still giving. You could do so much more than work security at the bank, but you stay at the job because you’re making sure I’m not slipping out at lunch time. Or going out for a few beers after work. You think I don’t see that, Jack? You think I don’t know who made you this way? And I want to stop it, I do, but I don’t know how, and I’m afraid you don’t know how to, either. I’m scared shitless you’re gonna let your tank go empty because you don’t know how to do anything else.” Sam broke eye contact with Jack for a second, looking briefly at Ennis. “And I’m not sure he’s the one, Jack, the one to fill you up again.”
The inside of the car was engulfed in silence, Jack lost in thoughts and feelings and words lost in the lump in his throat. It felt like forever before he could figure out a way to respond.
“Sam, I get what you’re saying, and I'm down with that, I really am. But if you’re really wanting me to break away, if you really do, then you gotta back off and let me, man. If this isn’t what I think it is, I ain’t gonna fall apart. And if I do, I know you’ll stand by me. Right?”
Sam met his eyes again and nodded slowly, “Damn straight.”
Jack smiled at Sam. “Actually, news flash, not straight.” Sam smiled back. Jack let out a sigh, knowing they were back on track.
“Shit. You guys got a Kleenex around here? I’m just a mess,” Ennis deadpanned, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.
Sam reached out and tried to cuff Ennis on the back of the head while Jack jabbed him in the stomach. After a quick tussle, and plenty of relieved laughter, they were back on the road.
“Well, glad that’s all cleared up because you’re a pretty shitty Kevin Costner,” Jack told the back of Sam’s head.
“Well, you ain’t no Whitney Houston, I can tell you that.”
“I don’t know, I think he’d look hot in a sparkly, sleeveless dress,” Ennis teased, pulling Jack closer for a quick kiss. “All those bulging…uh…bulges.” Ennis reached down and began to rub Jack’s considerable bulging bulge, nibbling on his neck.
Jack proceeded to respond in kind, stroking the ridge of Ennis’s shaft through his jeans. He looked down and hissed when he saw the top button on Ennis’s jeans had popped open, and he could see the red tip of Ennis’s cock.
He was just about to lean down, tongue first, when Sam called out, “Clay Aiken! Jesus, you guys.”
Ennis’s hand stilled, a puzzled expression on his face.
Jack rolled his eyes. “It’s his safe word. Clay Aiken.”
“Oh,” said Ennis, slowly taking his hand away from Jack’s crotch.
“Yeah,” Jack answered regretfully, buttoning Ennis’s jeans. But only after slyly rubbing his finger along the tip of Ennis’s cock
“Well I don’t know about Clay, but I’m sure achin’,” Ennis declared, shifting in his seat.
Both Jack and Sam groaned before dissolving into laughter, shaking their heads in disgust.
“Dude, you’re all right,” Sam said, reaching out to adjust the rearview mirror so he could look at Ennis when he said this.
“Well, I'd like to rip one of your ribs outta your chest and stab you in the back with it, you dipshit.” Ennis grumbled.
Sam gave Ennis an approving grin before re-adjusting the mirror. He then turned the car CD player on.
“Sorry, boys, no romantic make-out music in this car. Musta left my Michael Bolton’s Greatest Hits in the loveshack. Just some old fashioned Rolling Stones,” Sam declared smugly, cranking up Gimme Shelter.
Jack groaned again, leaning his head back and covering his face with his arm. “Have mercy,” he moaned, the familiar sound of Mick Jagger’s voice bringing him back to another song and a crowded dance floor and the hot pulsating smell of sex and leather. He looked over at Ennis and he could tell from the shallow way Ennis was breathing that he wasn’t the only one taking a trip down memory lane.
They shared a secret smile, barely supressing their man-giggles, and reached out to clasp hands. Jack closed his eyes and lost himself in the music, letting the warmth of the man beside him fill him up. He smiled when he felt a light kiss on his lips.
Love…it’s just a kiss away.
Jack agreed. Yes, it is, Mick, got that right.
TBC, probably during another night of insomnia.