FIC: Push Comes to Shove (RPS AU,vBill/Sean, NC-17)
Push Comes to Shove
Authors: helens78 and telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: RPS, Sean Bean/ William Fichtner
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,673
50kinkyways prompt: 028/050--Dominant
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Summary: Both Bill and Sean are tops who end up striking out on a slow night in a bar--and if that doesn't convince you that this is fiction, I don't know what will, but anyway. When they settle for each other, who ends up on top?
Notes: I can't really say much here excpet to say that this one's only kinky in that there's a lot of manuvering for postition going on. Well and some leather. It also involves some things we both love--walls and guys being pushed into them and tough guys being tough. Hope you all enjoy it too. :)
It's just about midnight and there's no one in this bar worth fucking. Sean's either had them or turned them down, and he's both edgy and horny tonight, wishing he'd seen someone who at least looked like a good prospect.
He's tempted to finish his drink, pull on his jacket, and head for the bar on the other side of town, but that bar's been even more dead than this one lately. Much as he hates to admit it, he may have to walk home without getting what he came here for.
On the whole, Bill likes working from two in the afternoon to eleven in the evening. His commute is a piece of cake, he has time to do things in the mornings, and his company believes in compensating him damn well for the modified swing shift. On the other hand, it makes going to bars on weeknights a bit of a pain in the ass; between the time it takes to get home and showered and changed, it's usually midnight before he even reaches a bar. On weekends, it's no big deal, but on a Thursday like tonight, it's a pain.
On top of it all, his usual bar does their Women's Night thing on Thursdays, and while Bill doesn't begrudge the lesbian sisters their fun, it means that when he gets it in his head to go out, he's got to find some place worth getting into his leathers for.
"You got Sam Addams Brown?" he asks the bartender, and when the guy nods, Bill feels like his night is looking up. Of course, once he turns around, leans on the bar and checks the action out, he changes his mind. There's a table of slightly rowdy twinks who look a bit out of place in what is supposed to be a leather bar, a few groups of guys--tops and bottoms--who obviously all know each other, and the usual single men, who, by this time of night, are looking either desperate or resigned.
And then there's the guy at the end of the bar whose leathers are both worn in and well tended and whose scowl is neither desperate nor resigned. Bill can see the keys on the guy's belt, but he didn't really need the clue to know that the blond with the shaggy hair and black leather gloves is a top. Thinking of the black hankie hanging out of his own left pocket, Bill mentally shrugs. If nothing else, maybe he and the guy--who really is fucking hot now that Bill's giving him the twice over--can chat for a while.
Sean's not the type to dance around it when he's spotted someone checking him out. He nods to the guy leaning against the bar a few stools down, a little sorry that he's getting a "top" reading off the guy. He's hot--about Sean's age, probably, brown hair, eyes so blue Sean can see how intense the color is even in a bar this dim. White t-shirt, black leathers, boots. Well, it's not like Sean's never hit on another top before--for most guys, including Sean, there's a little wiggle room for play if they can get past their egos--so he gives the guy a salute with his glass and tips the rest of his scotch back.
Not sure if he's being cruised or just acknowledged, Bill grins and moves down to sit next to the guy. After all, he's already decided he's not going to get lucky here, so why not have a beer or two and some conversation with a guy who seems to be in the same boat?
"Slow night," he says, noticing that the guy looks even better close up. He likes the green eyes, and the scar over the guy's right eyebrow makes him look rakish and just a little dangerous.
"It gets that way sometimes," Sean agrees. He slides the glass back a bit and turns to face his new conversation partner. Near as he can tell, there's some mutual attraction happening, which bodes well for the evening. He offers the guy his hand. "I'm Sean."
"Bill," Bill replies, shaking Sean's hand and appreciating that Sean doesn't turn it into one of those macho bullshit strength contests. "You ready for another?" he asks, glancing at Sean's glass.
"Not just yet, thanks. I work through two an evening, max--my reaction time ends up off otherwise." It's only after he says it that he realizes how honest he's being. No bullshit, no posturing, and no drinking in order to show off. The honesty feels good, especially around here.
"That's why I stick to beer," Bill says with a laugh, covering up the fact that, between the accent and the slight roughness of it, Sean's voice is damn near perfect. Bet boys just love hearing him growling out orders.
"Beer's good if you run into someone with a watersports fetish." Sean grins, ear-to-ear. "Doesn't taste half bad on the right man, either."
"True on both counts," Bill says. He glances around the bar again. "At the risk of sounding incredibly cheesy, do you come here often? My regular place does the girl's night thing on Thursdays, although really, I don't know that I'll have better luck here tonight than I would there."
"I'm here a few nights a week--my other place has been about this busy, lately," Sean says, grimacing a little. "Ah well--I suppose I was about due for a dry spell. It happens."
"It does," Bill agrees. He chuckles a little. "I feel better about striking out if someone who looks like you isn't getting lucky either." The moment he says the words, he feels like an idiot. Why am I flirting with another top?
Sean just laughs. Nice hearing a compliment without all the dick-measuring that goes on around here, and hell, I was thinking the same thing. "Well, I'll take this conversation over some scenes I've done with lads I've met at this place. What is it you come here looking for?"
"Which answer do you want?" Bill asks, smirking a little. "The one I give the boys is that I'm looking for someone whose mouth goes dry and whose dick gets hard when he sees how I flag." He shrugs, losing the smirk. "In reality, I'd like a nice uncomplicated lay." It's more honesty than he's used to using in bars, and he looks down at his beer bottle, picking at the label.
"Well..." Sean clinks the rim of his glass against the neck of Bill's beer bottle, primarily because it seems a more neutral move than putting a hand on Bill's hand, or his arm, or the back of his neck. "That last one could be doable, even with the lack of bottoms around here."
"Oh?" Bill says, frowning a little as he tries to figure out what Sean means. "Oh," he repeats when he gets it. "You switch?" In his mind he's already imagining Sean bent over something while Bill beats him with a belt. Wonder what kind of an ass he has?
Sean laughs. "That's not exactly what I was thinking," he says, "but what do you say we get out of here anyway? It sounds a hell of a lot better than waiting around until they kick us out."
"What were you thinking?" Bill asks, but he's leaning down to grab his helmet off the floor. If Sean is seriously thinking that Bill will go under for him, he's got another think coming. On the other hand, convincing Sean to go under could make the evening a hell of a lot better.
Plus he's right; there's no way anything better is going to come along.
"I think my car's out back, for one," Sean says, nodding towards the back door. "How about getting some fresh air with me to start with, and we figure out part two from there?"
"All right," Bill says, following Sean out of the bar. This late at night, the parking area is deserted, and Bill smiles a little. "So how do you feel about walls?" he asks, putting his helmet down in a nice out of the way place. No point in it getting scuffed if he and Sean want to have a...discussion about who is on top.
"I'm damn fond of walls," Sean says, waiting until Bill's facing him again before reaching out. He puts a hand on Bill's hip and comes in close, pressing his thighs up against Bill's, face near enough he can smell the beer on Bill's breath. "How about you?"
Grabbing Sean's wrist, Bill pulls him close. "I like shoving guys into them just fine," he adds, twisting in an attempt to get Sean's back against the wall. "Gonna fuck you so hard."
Sean lets him, but only so he can feel for himself how strong Bill is. How hard he's going to have to fight to take him down. It's going to be a good night, even better than he thought, and he gets a fistful of Bill's shirt and drags him in hard, forcing his mouth onto Bill's and giving him a rough, biting kiss.
The kiss comes as a bit of a shock, or rather the type of kiss is surprising, but then why would a guy like this go down easy? Bill's never been one of those gay men who doesn't kiss, and even though it's a far more demanding kiss than he's used to, Sean's got a fantastic mouth. Bill relaxes just a little, letting Sean kiss him for a moment before he pushes back, leaning into Sean and biting hard at his mouth. Now it's your turn.
But Sean's not interested in going down, not tonight, and he shoves back at Bill, hooking a leg around Bill's and pushing him, trying to get both of them turned around.
Growling, Bill shoves back, and the resulting stalemate has him with his shoulder and side against the wall facing Sean. "I don't go down," Bill snarls, and fuck but this is good. He shoves against Sean hard, his fingers going tight on Sean's biceps.
"You don't have to bloody break. Just bend. Just fucking bend a little," Sean pants back at him, hands dropping to Bill's waist, clutching at his waistband. He pushes back harder, forgetting leverage and just using raw strength. I want this guy, he thinks, and it's more than just the obvious desire to get off now. He wants this guy, this one in particular, his dick up this guy's ass, right now.
Sean's stronger than Bill expected, and his push ends up slamming Bill's back against the wall. "Fuck you," Bill says. "I fucking mean it; I fuck you not the other way around." Even as he says the words, however, he's realizing that Sean is incredibly fucking hot like this. No. At least not without more of a fight. He leans in and goes for Sean's mouth with his own as if going for a kiss, but instead, he catches Sean's lower lip between his teeth and bites down hard.
Sean cries out, but the pain's not a bad thing--it's a shock, but it's a good one--and he gets one hand up, clutching at the back of Bill's neck as he fights to get that bite into kiss territory.
"Oh, fuck," Bill moans as his mouth goes slack. His neck's always been sensitive and the feel of leather across the back of it has him rethinking--just a little--his stance on going under. Sean's tongue moving into Bill's mouth doesn't make things any easier; Bill wants to fight back, but it's almost impossible to do so while he's being kissed so expertly.
There we go. Just a little more. Sean jerks at the edge of Bill's shirt, trying to get it out of his waistband so he can get his other hand on bare skin. Bill's still trying to fight, and Sean doesn't want to take that away from him--he just wants to fight Bill down until Sean's got enough of his respect that Bill can roll over for him.
That's a new one, he thinks. Since when do you care so much about having someone's respect? He shuts that line of thought down as he bites at Bill's lips, squeezing the back of his neck and rubbing at the side of it with the pad of his thumb.
Somewhere in the back of his head, Bill knows that right now, a solid punch to Sean's gut or a knee to his groin would end this encounter. He's not sure he could take Sean in a fight, but he knows damn well that if he wanted to, he could make it damn clear that he doesn't want this. And furthermore, Sean undoubtedly knows it too.
His face hot, Bill twists hard in an attempt to keep Sean from getting a hand under his shirt. He won't insult either of them by holding back--Sean's still going to have to work his ass off and if he slips, Bill will be more than happy to turn things around. But the idea of going under for Sean is no longer out of the question.
Sean's panting with the effort of keeping Bill held down now. He's even sweating a little, and it all feels fantastic. There's nothing he could have gotten from anyone else in that bar that would measure up to this.
The fight's getting rougher, though, and Sean's not holding back any more than Bill is. He jerks hard at Bill's shirt and hears seams pop, and the urge to play it nice loses to the need to have his gloves up against bare skin now. He reaches up to Bill's neckline and jerks hard, hem tearing away and an inch of shirt ripping along with it.
"Oh, fuck," Bill growls. There's something insanely hot about the sound of his shirt ripping and when that's followed up by the feel of Sean's gloved hands against his skin, Bill knows he's lost. "Damn you," he mutters, and now when he strains against Sean, it's in a deliberate, and desperate, attempt to get closer to him.
Sean says nothing. There's no need to rub Bill's acquiescence in his face--at least not unless he pushes--and more than ever he feels the need to get into Bill, to have his hands and body all over Bill's, now.
He shoves Bill back against the wall again and kisses him hard, tearing at the rip in Bill's shirt to get it open to the waist. Mine. Right now--mine.
Those gloves are going to be the death of him, Bill's sure of it. While he's doing his best to not let Sean control the kiss--he's still determined not to go down too easily--he's already flashing ahead to the way those long gloved fingers will feel on his face as he kneels or on his hips as Sean presses him into the wall. What is it about you? he wonders, not sure if he's asking the question of himself or Sean.
By the time Sean pulls back to take a few panting breaths, he's sure both their lips are swollen. Bill's not fighting him off anymore, but it's obvious he's not the kind of man who'll just take direction and be happy once the initial fight's worn down.
He grins and runs his hand down to Bill's cock, curving his hand around it. "One of us really ought to be suggesting someplace more private," he murmurs. "I just don't know if I can wait that long."
"You better not," Bill says firmly as he presses hard against Sean's hand. "Give me a chance to get on my bike and you'll have to go through this all over again. And you might not end up on top." Reaching down, he covers Sean's hand with his and grinds against the additional pressure.
"You on your bike. Now there's a pretty image." Sean pulls his hand away from Bill's and reaches up for his belt. "I could handle riding behind you. Making you pull over somewhere. Bending you forward and fucking you with the bike still hot between your legs." He's got Bill's belt undone, and the temptation to yank it out and use it for bondage is pretty intense, but not as intense as the need to get his hands on bare skin. He pops the button on Bill's jeans and slips a hand inside, reaching for his cock.
The "oh fuck," brought on by Sean's words becomes a loud groan as Sean's hand closes around Bill's cock. "Fucking trying to kill me," he says, wishing he had enough control to keep from thrusting up into Sean's glove like a horny teenager. But he doesn't, and the image of himself stretched across his own bike is far hotter than it should be.
Sean's got a hand free to grip the fabric at Bill's shoulder and shove his back tight up against the wall, leaning in and nipping at his earlobe. "You're goddamned right," he growls, stroking Bill's cock nice and hard.
"Jesus," Bill gasps. Sean's leather jacket pressing up against Bill's bare chest is cool and a little stiff, and Bill sucks in his breath hard as the zipper catches against one of his nipples. Although he grits his teeth to keep from begging as he continues to work his cock in Sean's grip, he knows that he's moved away from growling and is getting dangerously close to whimpering.
"Need you. Right now," Sean snarls. He bites the side of Bill's neck, hard, and shoves at Bill's jeans. They don't have to go down far. Just far enough. If he can get Bill turned around, not very far at all.
"Oh yeah?" Bill asks, but it's only a reflex question. They both know he's going to turn around and they both know he wants it bad. At least I know he wants it bad too, Bill thinks. It helps a surprising amount.
"Don't worry," Sean says, grabbing Bill by the hips and trying to get him turned around. "I won't ask you to give me anything. I'll just fucking take you."
Bill twists a little, but again, it's more for show than anything else, even though his mind is screaming at him that this is gonna hurt like hell. It's been years--Bill can't remember how many--since ?anyone's fucked him, and even as Sean shoves him hard against the rough wall, Bill is braced for a very different pain.
Sean can guess how long it's been since Bill got fucked. That's not going to make him go easy, though, and he has a feeling Bill wouldn't want him to. The gloves are leather, not kid, he thinks, and he digs into his pocket for lube and a condom.
The longer Bill remains up against the wall while Sean digs for supplies, the more annoyed with himself he gets. What the fuck were you thinking to go down this easy? he thinks. Just as he's about to turn around and deck Sean, he hears the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being torn open, and his cock gets harder, if that's possible. I was thinking that for once, I want someone else to do all the damn work.
That's a lie, of course, but in a situation like this, Bill feels he's allowed a bit of justification.
Sean doesn't want Bill thinking much longer. He knows full well that the longer he keeps Bill waiting, the less chance there is that he'll get anywhere with Bill tonight.
But by now he's got the condom on and his fingers are slick. And if the leather makes them thicker as he works them into Bill's ass... well, that'll help stretch him open. And Sean's got a feeling Bill wouldn't want the gloves off even if Sean made the offer.
"Oh, fuck," Bill shouts at the feeling of two gloved fingers moving into him. It hurts like fucking hell, but the idea of it, that Sean left the gloves on, makes it so fucking hot that the pain is bearable. Or maybe it's the pain itself; as Bill feels himself responding to the rough stretching, he's not really sure what aspect it is that has him pressing back against Sean's fingers.
"God, yeah," Sean whispers, lips brushing at the back of Bill's neck. He's too impatient to wait anymore; he can just imagine how hot Bill's going to feel when it's his cock buried in Bill's body instead of his fingers. And fucking someone with a condom might be a little like taking a shower with a raincoat on, but it's still better than leather. "Let's feel some of that," he murmurs, more to himself than Bill as he starts working his cock in.
If Sean's fingers hurt, his cock is even worse--or is that better?--and Bill can actually feel himself getting breathless from the pain of it. He's also all too aware that he's still as hard as a rock; while it's been a long time since he's been fucked like this, his body apparently remembers how much he liked it.
"Fuck," he mumbles, face pressed against the wall. "Oh, fuck, yeah...."
Sean's response is a low growl, his hands moving to Bill's hips, fingers digging in hard. Bill feels every bit as good as he imagined, and suddenly it doesn't matter that they're outside where any number of bar patrons could run across them; there's just Bill's body pinned between his and the wall, and Sean could spend all night like this.
As Sean picks up the pace, all Bill can do is brace himself and feel each rough move of Sean's cock inside him. The part of him that's protesting, that's insisting he shouldn't just lean here and fucking take it is getting quieter and quieter as leaning here and taking it gets better and better. He bites his lip, knowing that he's only minutes away from begging, and good or not, he's not about to do that.
Sean splays his fingers out and makes a scratching motion up Bill's thighs. He can't really dig in and scratch with his gloves on, but the sensation's almost as good this way. And he keeps moving one hand until it's resting on Bill's inner thigh, right next to his cock. Close enough to get Bill's attention, that's for damned sure.
"Feels good?" Sean asks through his teeth, though he knows there's no real question about it. "You feel fucking great to me."
The tease of the leather on his thigh is enough to tell Bill--if he didn't know already--that he's dealing with a damn devious guy here. He wants that leather on his cock, wants desperately to fuck that glove until he comes, but he can guess that he's going to have to ask for it. Not yet, damnit. Not yet.
"Good, yeah," he moans, and that much is easy; it's not as if Sean can't tell that Bill is loving this.
"That's it. I want to hear that." Sean's hand tightens on Bill's thigh. Bill's so tight Sean's having trouble breathing steady, and that in turn is making it hard to talk, but it's worth the effort. "Come on," he growls. "It just gets better. Tell me how good this is for you."
"It'd be better if you put your fucking hand on my dick," Bill growls, pleased that Sean's given him a way to ask that doesn't involve begging. Or am I gonna pay for that?
Sean's hands go right back to Bill's hips, and he leans in again to bite Bill's neck. "I bet that growl gets you everything you want out of the boys you take home." He rests his chin on Bill's shoulder. "But you're not fucking me right now, are you?"
"Goddamnit," Bill mutters, although he knows he brought this on himself. Sean's teeth on the back of his neck are a reminder that he's not the one in charge here--as if I needed another reminder. "No," he mutters, squirming just a little as Sean's teeth hit all the right places. "C'mon..."
That's close enough, Sean decides. He could probably get more out of Bill, but there's no reason not to keep this friendly. He grins and gets a hand on Bill's cock, giving it one long pass before tightening his grip and going faster. "That's it," he growls, "right where you needed it, isn't it?"
That's enough--more than enough, really--and Bill lets out a long moan, letting Sean's movement drive him into Sean's hand. "Yeah," he says. "Oh, fuck, yeah...need this." Saying it feels almost as good as getting fucked, and there's no way that Bill can pretend he didn't need this.
It's satisfying as hell hearing Bill admit to that, and Sean closes his eyes so he can enjoy the moment. He's getting pretty close by now; it's not going to take long to come, not with Bill making sounds like those. "So damn good," Sean pants. "Fuck."
"God," Bill moans, his hands going flat on the wall as Sean pounds into him. "Good...yeah, oh, God, yeah...fuck me...please fuck me...." And then it's like Sean's broken something loose inside Bill and now Bill can let go and beg, can make all those noises he never thought he'd hear himself making.
Even though he's been pushing for this, it's still a shock when Bill starts begging. Sean shoves into him and gasps, hand tightening on Bill's cock. And then he can't hold back anymore, and he gets rougher than he's been all night, pounding into BIll so hard it's probably making Bill's teeth rattle. He's so close he can practically taste it, but he wants to make damn sure this is good for Bill, too, that he doesn't just get him here and then leave him needing more.
It's a damn good thing Sean's hand is wrapped around his cock, because Bill's being slammed into the wall hard now; he can feel the rough scrape of it against his hip and the pain adds to the feeling building up in him until he can't stand it any more. With a loud shout, he comes so hard his knees go weak and he slumps between Sean and the wall, letting both hold him up.
Sean barely has time to let out a shout of his own before he's coming, too, following Bill over and wrapping an arm around his waist, holding him up as best he can.
It's a while before he catches his breath, and when he does, he ends up chuckling. There's good and then there's this, he thinks, and this was... "Amazing," he mumbles.
Feeling too good to be surly, even if surliness were his thing--it isn't--Bill laughs weakly. "Fuck, yeah," he says, breathing hard. "Kinda made me wonder why I stopped doing that." He can say that here, to Sean. After all, Sean's heard him beg and so Bill figures a little honesty won't hurt any. He drops a hand down to grip Sean's forearm. "Thanks."
"Any time," Sean says--and it's been a long time since he's meant that particular phrase quite as much as he does right now. "Bed's sounding better than ever... would you want to--can I talk you into heading back to my place?" It feels awkward asking, but there's no way in hell he's letting Bill just walk away.
It's on the tip of Bill's tongue to refuse; he's gone further with Sean than he has with anyone in a while. But the offer implies that Sean is willing to provide some kind of aftercare and Bill's not so macho as to deny that he could use a little looking after. I don't think badly of guys who go down for me needing it, after all.
"Yeah," he says after a moment of hesitation. "I'd like that."
-end-
Authors: helens78 and telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: RPS, Sean Bean/ William Fichtner
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,673
50kinkyways prompt: 028/050--Dominant
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Summary: Both Bill and Sean are tops who end up striking out on a slow night in a bar--and if that doesn't convince you that this is fiction, I don't know what will, but anyway. When they settle for each other, who ends up on top?
Notes: I can't really say much here excpet to say that this one's only kinky in that there's a lot of manuvering for postition going on. Well and some leather. It also involves some things we both love--walls and guys being pushed into them and tough guys being tough. Hope you all enjoy it too. :)
It's just about midnight and there's no one in this bar worth fucking. Sean's either had them or turned them down, and he's both edgy and horny tonight, wishing he'd seen someone who at least looked like a good prospect.
He's tempted to finish his drink, pull on his jacket, and head for the bar on the other side of town, but that bar's been even more dead than this one lately. Much as he hates to admit it, he may have to walk home without getting what he came here for.
On the whole, Bill likes working from two in the afternoon to eleven in the evening. His commute is a piece of cake, he has time to do things in the mornings, and his company believes in compensating him damn well for the modified swing shift. On the other hand, it makes going to bars on weeknights a bit of a pain in the ass; between the time it takes to get home and showered and changed, it's usually midnight before he even reaches a bar. On weekends, it's no big deal, but on a Thursday like tonight, it's a pain.
On top of it all, his usual bar does their Women's Night thing on Thursdays, and while Bill doesn't begrudge the lesbian sisters their fun, it means that when he gets it in his head to go out, he's got to find some place worth getting into his leathers for.
"You got Sam Addams Brown?" he asks the bartender, and when the guy nods, Bill feels like his night is looking up. Of course, once he turns around, leans on the bar and checks the action out, he changes his mind. There's a table of slightly rowdy twinks who look a bit out of place in what is supposed to be a leather bar, a few groups of guys--tops and bottoms--who obviously all know each other, and the usual single men, who, by this time of night, are looking either desperate or resigned.
And then there's the guy at the end of the bar whose leathers are both worn in and well tended and whose scowl is neither desperate nor resigned. Bill can see the keys on the guy's belt, but he didn't really need the clue to know that the blond with the shaggy hair and black leather gloves is a top. Thinking of the black hankie hanging out of his own left pocket, Bill mentally shrugs. If nothing else, maybe he and the guy--who really is fucking hot now that Bill's giving him the twice over--can chat for a while.
Sean's not the type to dance around it when he's spotted someone checking him out. He nods to the guy leaning against the bar a few stools down, a little sorry that he's getting a "top" reading off the guy. He's hot--about Sean's age, probably, brown hair, eyes so blue Sean can see how intense the color is even in a bar this dim. White t-shirt, black leathers, boots. Well, it's not like Sean's never hit on another top before--for most guys, including Sean, there's a little wiggle room for play if they can get past their egos--so he gives the guy a salute with his glass and tips the rest of his scotch back.
Not sure if he's being cruised or just acknowledged, Bill grins and moves down to sit next to the guy. After all, he's already decided he's not going to get lucky here, so why not have a beer or two and some conversation with a guy who seems to be in the same boat?
"Slow night," he says, noticing that the guy looks even better close up. He likes the green eyes, and the scar over the guy's right eyebrow makes him look rakish and just a little dangerous.
"It gets that way sometimes," Sean agrees. He slides the glass back a bit and turns to face his new conversation partner. Near as he can tell, there's some mutual attraction happening, which bodes well for the evening. He offers the guy his hand. "I'm Sean."
"Bill," Bill replies, shaking Sean's hand and appreciating that Sean doesn't turn it into one of those macho bullshit strength contests. "You ready for another?" he asks, glancing at Sean's glass.
"Not just yet, thanks. I work through two an evening, max--my reaction time ends up off otherwise." It's only after he says it that he realizes how honest he's being. No bullshit, no posturing, and no drinking in order to show off. The honesty feels good, especially around here.
"That's why I stick to beer," Bill says with a laugh, covering up the fact that, between the accent and the slight roughness of it, Sean's voice is damn near perfect. Bet boys just love hearing him growling out orders.
"Beer's good if you run into someone with a watersports fetish." Sean grins, ear-to-ear. "Doesn't taste half bad on the right man, either."
"True on both counts," Bill says. He glances around the bar again. "At the risk of sounding incredibly cheesy, do you come here often? My regular place does the girl's night thing on Thursdays, although really, I don't know that I'll have better luck here tonight than I would there."
"I'm here a few nights a week--my other place has been about this busy, lately," Sean says, grimacing a little. "Ah well--I suppose I was about due for a dry spell. It happens."
"It does," Bill agrees. He chuckles a little. "I feel better about striking out if someone who looks like you isn't getting lucky either." The moment he says the words, he feels like an idiot. Why am I flirting with another top?
Sean just laughs. Nice hearing a compliment without all the dick-measuring that goes on around here, and hell, I was thinking the same thing. "Well, I'll take this conversation over some scenes I've done with lads I've met at this place. What is it you come here looking for?"
"Which answer do you want?" Bill asks, smirking a little. "The one I give the boys is that I'm looking for someone whose mouth goes dry and whose dick gets hard when he sees how I flag." He shrugs, losing the smirk. "In reality, I'd like a nice uncomplicated lay." It's more honesty than he's used to using in bars, and he looks down at his beer bottle, picking at the label.
"Well..." Sean clinks the rim of his glass against the neck of Bill's beer bottle, primarily because it seems a more neutral move than putting a hand on Bill's hand, or his arm, or the back of his neck. "That last one could be doable, even with the lack of bottoms around here."
"Oh?" Bill says, frowning a little as he tries to figure out what Sean means. "Oh," he repeats when he gets it. "You switch?" In his mind he's already imagining Sean bent over something while Bill beats him with a belt. Wonder what kind of an ass he has?
Sean laughs. "That's not exactly what I was thinking," he says, "but what do you say we get out of here anyway? It sounds a hell of a lot better than waiting around until they kick us out."
"What were you thinking?" Bill asks, but he's leaning down to grab his helmet off the floor. If Sean is seriously thinking that Bill will go under for him, he's got another think coming. On the other hand, convincing Sean to go under could make the evening a hell of a lot better.
Plus he's right; there's no way anything better is going to come along.
"I think my car's out back, for one," Sean says, nodding towards the back door. "How about getting some fresh air with me to start with, and we figure out part two from there?"
"All right," Bill says, following Sean out of the bar. This late at night, the parking area is deserted, and Bill smiles a little. "So how do you feel about walls?" he asks, putting his helmet down in a nice out of the way place. No point in it getting scuffed if he and Sean want to have a...discussion about who is on top.
"I'm damn fond of walls," Sean says, waiting until Bill's facing him again before reaching out. He puts a hand on Bill's hip and comes in close, pressing his thighs up against Bill's, face near enough he can smell the beer on Bill's breath. "How about you?"
Grabbing Sean's wrist, Bill pulls him close. "I like shoving guys into them just fine," he adds, twisting in an attempt to get Sean's back against the wall. "Gonna fuck you so hard."
Sean lets him, but only so he can feel for himself how strong Bill is. How hard he's going to have to fight to take him down. It's going to be a good night, even better than he thought, and he gets a fistful of Bill's shirt and drags him in hard, forcing his mouth onto Bill's and giving him a rough, biting kiss.
The kiss comes as a bit of a shock, or rather the type of kiss is surprising, but then why would a guy like this go down easy? Bill's never been one of those gay men who doesn't kiss, and even though it's a far more demanding kiss than he's used to, Sean's got a fantastic mouth. Bill relaxes just a little, letting Sean kiss him for a moment before he pushes back, leaning into Sean and biting hard at his mouth. Now it's your turn.
But Sean's not interested in going down, not tonight, and he shoves back at Bill, hooking a leg around Bill's and pushing him, trying to get both of them turned around.
Growling, Bill shoves back, and the resulting stalemate has him with his shoulder and side against the wall facing Sean. "I don't go down," Bill snarls, and fuck but this is good. He shoves against Sean hard, his fingers going tight on Sean's biceps.
"You don't have to bloody break. Just bend. Just fucking bend a little," Sean pants back at him, hands dropping to Bill's waist, clutching at his waistband. He pushes back harder, forgetting leverage and just using raw strength. I want this guy, he thinks, and it's more than just the obvious desire to get off now. He wants this guy, this one in particular, his dick up this guy's ass, right now.
Sean's stronger than Bill expected, and his push ends up slamming Bill's back against the wall. "Fuck you," Bill says. "I fucking mean it; I fuck you not the other way around." Even as he says the words, however, he's realizing that Sean is incredibly fucking hot like this. No. At least not without more of a fight. He leans in and goes for Sean's mouth with his own as if going for a kiss, but instead, he catches Sean's lower lip between his teeth and bites down hard.
Sean cries out, but the pain's not a bad thing--it's a shock, but it's a good one--and he gets one hand up, clutching at the back of Bill's neck as he fights to get that bite into kiss territory.
"Oh, fuck," Bill moans as his mouth goes slack. His neck's always been sensitive and the feel of leather across the back of it has him rethinking--just a little--his stance on going under. Sean's tongue moving into Bill's mouth doesn't make things any easier; Bill wants to fight back, but it's almost impossible to do so while he's being kissed so expertly.
There we go. Just a little more. Sean jerks at the edge of Bill's shirt, trying to get it out of his waistband so he can get his other hand on bare skin. Bill's still trying to fight, and Sean doesn't want to take that away from him--he just wants to fight Bill down until Sean's got enough of his respect that Bill can roll over for him.
That's a new one, he thinks. Since when do you care so much about having someone's respect? He shuts that line of thought down as he bites at Bill's lips, squeezing the back of his neck and rubbing at the side of it with the pad of his thumb.
Somewhere in the back of his head, Bill knows that right now, a solid punch to Sean's gut or a knee to his groin would end this encounter. He's not sure he could take Sean in a fight, but he knows damn well that if he wanted to, he could make it damn clear that he doesn't want this. And furthermore, Sean undoubtedly knows it too.
His face hot, Bill twists hard in an attempt to keep Sean from getting a hand under his shirt. He won't insult either of them by holding back--Sean's still going to have to work his ass off and if he slips, Bill will be more than happy to turn things around. But the idea of going under for Sean is no longer out of the question.
Sean's panting with the effort of keeping Bill held down now. He's even sweating a little, and it all feels fantastic. There's nothing he could have gotten from anyone else in that bar that would measure up to this.
The fight's getting rougher, though, and Sean's not holding back any more than Bill is. He jerks hard at Bill's shirt and hears seams pop, and the urge to play it nice loses to the need to have his gloves up against bare skin now. He reaches up to Bill's neckline and jerks hard, hem tearing away and an inch of shirt ripping along with it.
"Oh, fuck," Bill growls. There's something insanely hot about the sound of his shirt ripping and when that's followed up by the feel of Sean's gloved hands against his skin, Bill knows he's lost. "Damn you," he mutters, and now when he strains against Sean, it's in a deliberate, and desperate, attempt to get closer to him.
Sean says nothing. There's no need to rub Bill's acquiescence in his face--at least not unless he pushes--and more than ever he feels the need to get into Bill, to have his hands and body all over Bill's, now.
He shoves Bill back against the wall again and kisses him hard, tearing at the rip in Bill's shirt to get it open to the waist. Mine. Right now--mine.
Those gloves are going to be the death of him, Bill's sure of it. While he's doing his best to not let Sean control the kiss--he's still determined not to go down too easily--he's already flashing ahead to the way those long gloved fingers will feel on his face as he kneels or on his hips as Sean presses him into the wall. What is it about you? he wonders, not sure if he's asking the question of himself or Sean.
By the time Sean pulls back to take a few panting breaths, he's sure both their lips are swollen. Bill's not fighting him off anymore, but it's obvious he's not the kind of man who'll just take direction and be happy once the initial fight's worn down.
He grins and runs his hand down to Bill's cock, curving his hand around it. "One of us really ought to be suggesting someplace more private," he murmurs. "I just don't know if I can wait that long."
"You better not," Bill says firmly as he presses hard against Sean's hand. "Give me a chance to get on my bike and you'll have to go through this all over again. And you might not end up on top." Reaching down, he covers Sean's hand with his and grinds against the additional pressure.
"You on your bike. Now there's a pretty image." Sean pulls his hand away from Bill's and reaches up for his belt. "I could handle riding behind you. Making you pull over somewhere. Bending you forward and fucking you with the bike still hot between your legs." He's got Bill's belt undone, and the temptation to yank it out and use it for bondage is pretty intense, but not as intense as the need to get his hands on bare skin. He pops the button on Bill's jeans and slips a hand inside, reaching for his cock.
The "oh fuck," brought on by Sean's words becomes a loud groan as Sean's hand closes around Bill's cock. "Fucking trying to kill me," he says, wishing he had enough control to keep from thrusting up into Sean's glove like a horny teenager. But he doesn't, and the image of himself stretched across his own bike is far hotter than it should be.
Sean's got a hand free to grip the fabric at Bill's shoulder and shove his back tight up against the wall, leaning in and nipping at his earlobe. "You're goddamned right," he growls, stroking Bill's cock nice and hard.
"Jesus," Bill gasps. Sean's leather jacket pressing up against Bill's bare chest is cool and a little stiff, and Bill sucks in his breath hard as the zipper catches against one of his nipples. Although he grits his teeth to keep from begging as he continues to work his cock in Sean's grip, he knows that he's moved away from growling and is getting dangerously close to whimpering.
"Need you. Right now," Sean snarls. He bites the side of Bill's neck, hard, and shoves at Bill's jeans. They don't have to go down far. Just far enough. If he can get Bill turned around, not very far at all.
"Oh yeah?" Bill asks, but it's only a reflex question. They both know he's going to turn around and they both know he wants it bad. At least I know he wants it bad too, Bill thinks. It helps a surprising amount.
"Don't worry," Sean says, grabbing Bill by the hips and trying to get him turned around. "I won't ask you to give me anything. I'll just fucking take you."
Bill twists a little, but again, it's more for show than anything else, even though his mind is screaming at him that this is gonna hurt like hell. It's been years--Bill can't remember how many--since ?anyone's fucked him, and even as Sean shoves him hard against the rough wall, Bill is braced for a very different pain.
Sean can guess how long it's been since Bill got fucked. That's not going to make him go easy, though, and he has a feeling Bill wouldn't want him to. The gloves are leather, not kid, he thinks, and he digs into his pocket for lube and a condom.
The longer Bill remains up against the wall while Sean digs for supplies, the more annoyed with himself he gets. What the fuck were you thinking to go down this easy? he thinks. Just as he's about to turn around and deck Sean, he hears the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being torn open, and his cock gets harder, if that's possible. I was thinking that for once, I want someone else to do all the damn work.
That's a lie, of course, but in a situation like this, Bill feels he's allowed a bit of justification.
Sean doesn't want Bill thinking much longer. He knows full well that the longer he keeps Bill waiting, the less chance there is that he'll get anywhere with Bill tonight.
But by now he's got the condom on and his fingers are slick. And if the leather makes them thicker as he works them into Bill's ass... well, that'll help stretch him open. And Sean's got a feeling Bill wouldn't want the gloves off even if Sean made the offer.
"Oh, fuck," Bill shouts at the feeling of two gloved fingers moving into him. It hurts like fucking hell, but the idea of it, that Sean left the gloves on, makes it so fucking hot that the pain is bearable. Or maybe it's the pain itself; as Bill feels himself responding to the rough stretching, he's not really sure what aspect it is that has him pressing back against Sean's fingers.
"God, yeah," Sean whispers, lips brushing at the back of Bill's neck. He's too impatient to wait anymore; he can just imagine how hot Bill's going to feel when it's his cock buried in Bill's body instead of his fingers. And fucking someone with a condom might be a little like taking a shower with a raincoat on, but it's still better than leather. "Let's feel some of that," he murmurs, more to himself than Bill as he starts working his cock in.
If Sean's fingers hurt, his cock is even worse--or is that better?--and Bill can actually feel himself getting breathless from the pain of it. He's also all too aware that he's still as hard as a rock; while it's been a long time since he's been fucked like this, his body apparently remembers how much he liked it.
"Fuck," he mumbles, face pressed against the wall. "Oh, fuck, yeah...."
Sean's response is a low growl, his hands moving to Bill's hips, fingers digging in hard. Bill feels every bit as good as he imagined, and suddenly it doesn't matter that they're outside where any number of bar patrons could run across them; there's just Bill's body pinned between his and the wall, and Sean could spend all night like this.
As Sean picks up the pace, all Bill can do is brace himself and feel each rough move of Sean's cock inside him. The part of him that's protesting, that's insisting he shouldn't just lean here and fucking take it is getting quieter and quieter as leaning here and taking it gets better and better. He bites his lip, knowing that he's only minutes away from begging, and good or not, he's not about to do that.
Sean splays his fingers out and makes a scratching motion up Bill's thighs. He can't really dig in and scratch with his gloves on, but the sensation's almost as good this way. And he keeps moving one hand until it's resting on Bill's inner thigh, right next to his cock. Close enough to get Bill's attention, that's for damned sure.
"Feels good?" Sean asks through his teeth, though he knows there's no real question about it. "You feel fucking great to me."
The tease of the leather on his thigh is enough to tell Bill--if he didn't know already--that he's dealing with a damn devious guy here. He wants that leather on his cock, wants desperately to fuck that glove until he comes, but he can guess that he's going to have to ask for it. Not yet, damnit. Not yet.
"Good, yeah," he moans, and that much is easy; it's not as if Sean can't tell that Bill is loving this.
"That's it. I want to hear that." Sean's hand tightens on Bill's thigh. Bill's so tight Sean's having trouble breathing steady, and that in turn is making it hard to talk, but it's worth the effort. "Come on," he growls. "It just gets better. Tell me how good this is for you."
"It'd be better if you put your fucking hand on my dick," Bill growls, pleased that Sean's given him a way to ask that doesn't involve begging. Or am I gonna pay for that?
Sean's hands go right back to Bill's hips, and he leans in again to bite Bill's neck. "I bet that growl gets you everything you want out of the boys you take home." He rests his chin on Bill's shoulder. "But you're not fucking me right now, are you?"
"Goddamnit," Bill mutters, although he knows he brought this on himself. Sean's teeth on the back of his neck are a reminder that he's not the one in charge here--as if I needed another reminder. "No," he mutters, squirming just a little as Sean's teeth hit all the right places. "C'mon..."
That's close enough, Sean decides. He could probably get more out of Bill, but there's no reason not to keep this friendly. He grins and gets a hand on Bill's cock, giving it one long pass before tightening his grip and going faster. "That's it," he growls, "right where you needed it, isn't it?"
That's enough--more than enough, really--and Bill lets out a long moan, letting Sean's movement drive him into Sean's hand. "Yeah," he says. "Oh, fuck, yeah...need this." Saying it feels almost as good as getting fucked, and there's no way that Bill can pretend he didn't need this.
It's satisfying as hell hearing Bill admit to that, and Sean closes his eyes so he can enjoy the moment. He's getting pretty close by now; it's not going to take long to come, not with Bill making sounds like those. "So damn good," Sean pants. "Fuck."
"God," Bill moans, his hands going flat on the wall as Sean pounds into him. "Good...yeah, oh, God, yeah...fuck me...please fuck me...." And then it's like Sean's broken something loose inside Bill and now Bill can let go and beg, can make all those noises he never thought he'd hear himself making.
Even though he's been pushing for this, it's still a shock when Bill starts begging. Sean shoves into him and gasps, hand tightening on Bill's cock. And then he can't hold back anymore, and he gets rougher than he's been all night, pounding into BIll so hard it's probably making Bill's teeth rattle. He's so close he can practically taste it, but he wants to make damn sure this is good for Bill, too, that he doesn't just get him here and then leave him needing more.
It's a damn good thing Sean's hand is wrapped around his cock, because Bill's being slammed into the wall hard now; he can feel the rough scrape of it against his hip and the pain adds to the feeling building up in him until he can't stand it any more. With a loud shout, he comes so hard his knees go weak and he slumps between Sean and the wall, letting both hold him up.
Sean barely has time to let out a shout of his own before he's coming, too, following Bill over and wrapping an arm around his waist, holding him up as best he can.
It's a while before he catches his breath, and when he does, he ends up chuckling. There's good and then there's this, he thinks, and this was... "Amazing," he mumbles.
Feeling too good to be surly, even if surliness were his thing--it isn't--Bill laughs weakly. "Fuck, yeah," he says, breathing hard. "Kinda made me wonder why I stopped doing that." He can say that here, to Sean. After all, Sean's heard him beg and so Bill figures a little honesty won't hurt any. He drops a hand down to grip Sean's forearm. "Thanks."
"Any time," Sean says--and it's been a long time since he's meant that particular phrase quite as much as he does right now. "Bed's sounding better than ever... would you want to--can I talk you into heading back to my place?" It feels awkward asking, but there's no way in hell he's letting Bill just walk away.
It's on the tip of Bill's tongue to refuse; he's gone further with Sean than he has with anyone in a while. But the offer implies that Sean is willing to provide some kind of aftercare and Bill's not so macho as to deny that he could use a little looking after. I don't think badly of guys who go down for me needing it, after all.
"Yeah," he says after a moment of hesitation. "I'd like that."
-end-