if there are no witnesses, there is no crime. Part I series.
this is madness. what am I even doing, I suck at completing stories, I really do.
Anyway. Here's my latest try. ...
Title: If there are no witnesses, there is no crime. Part I (AU)
Pairing: Wayne Rooney / Cristiano Ronaldo
Rating: R (for violence, language and sex)
Disclaimer: yeah. dream on.
for karneol_vision
inspired by this prompt at karneol_vision
gay serial killers armed and very dangerous.!!! partnership could either be stevie/fernando or wayne/cristiano. you could turn it into a all male bonnie&clyde.:)
If there are no witnesses, there is no crime. Part I
Silver.
If Cristiano had been to give this moment one certain color, it would have been silver.
Silver, just like the man’s eyes, the man who was on top of him, seemed to be in this particular moment, the stark moonlight reflecting in his lust-clouded eyes.
Silver, like handcuffs, just like he held Cristiano’s body in place as he thrust in and out of him, frantically; perhaps intoxicated by drinking in the sight and the feeling that was Cristiano, perhaps too drunk by now to act any different, Cristiano didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.
He just moaned as the man found this certain spot within him which made his insides burn with a heavy, stinging fire, heavy because of the intensity, stinging because it wasn’t quite as perfect as it should have been.
Not sensing any of this, the man’s eyes lit up now in something like triumph as he listened to Cristiano voicing his pleasure, his hands grabbing Cristiano’s body even tighter, pulling his hips even more flush so he could thrust into him more faster, harder, deeper. He was close, Cristiano could tell.
The man’s ring pressed cool against the skin of his hips. Again, silver, traitorous silver.
And now Cristiano could even smell that the man on top of him, rutting his hips against Cristiano’s with picking up the pace even more, was close, his beautiful features - beautiful, despite his age - giving him away as the man closed his eyes in this bittersweet ecstatic agony, his whole body trembling and suddenly tensing.
It was precisely this moment which Cristiano chose to cast a glance to the other side of the room, seeing someone stir in the corner immediately. He almost imagined silver glint lighting up there for a second. It was barely a second, and after that Cristiano threw himself even more into the man’s still wanton thrusts, hungry to get satisfaction himself, being not really close but close enough to give him an impression of how good it would be, if.
He didn’t get the chance.
Wayne’s timing was precise, as always.
Using the man’s current state of mindless bliss, he quickly made his way through the room, having the rope in his hand swung around the man’s neck from behind within a matter of seconds.
Again, Cristiano was met with silver eyes, this time staring at him in pure and utter shock, raw fear, as the man gave a surprised and frightened scream, struggling against the rope and against the man in his back. He stood no chance. Not against Wayne. They never did.
Cristiano looked back into this eyes with an indifferent smile, witnessing the struggle turning into defeat, and continued to grind his hips against the man’s groin, keeping him moving inside of him, as Wayne tightened the rope more and more, merciless. Or merciful, looking at that he made it happen as quickly as he could.
It was a race, a race Cristiano knew he could not win, Wayne way too accurate for that, and so he bucked up against the dying, spasming body frustratedly.
It was a matter of hardly two minutes before the man was dead.
As always, Wayne didn’t waste any time and dragged the man off of Cristiano as soon as his heart had stopped beating, carefully carrying the still warm corpse towards where the heavy chandelier hang.
“Where are his clothes …? … And did you finish the letter, please tell me you did …,”he asked, casually, as he lay the corpse unto the floor and turned around, looking for the man’s clothes. He found them discarded on the floor, without Cristiano having to tell him where they were. “Oh, Cris, you could have stripped him more carefully … would have spared us these creases. …Anyway, the letter… ”
“Have it … written … must only place it on the desk …,” Cristiano was panting and he was well aware of it, made no effort to hide it, even, just the opposite. “Goddamnit … Wayne, you could have … granted me two more minutes, you know? … his thrusts were so solid … god …”
Listening to Cristiano’s words or not, Wayne couldn’t be bothered to be interrupted with his work.
Instead, he now dressed the corpse again, soothing some of the creases, before he placed a chair under the chandelier. Then, plainly ignoring Cristiano now, he stepped onto the chair and dragged the corpse with him and, carefully making sure that he only touched everything with his gloves only, tied the other end of the rope to the chandelier, leaving the corpse hanging there, swaying slightly back and forth.
“.. Really, such a pity … oh, such a waste. A pretty man, he was, and such a gentleman. .. He even paid for my drinks …,” Cristiano mused on, writhing in the damp sheets, stroking himself, still so achingly hard, so painfully not-quite-close, as Wayne took of the ring from the man’s fingers, letting the silver disappear into one of his pockets, and then rubbed the man’s hands alongside the rope around his neck three times.
“I wish I could have ridden him…,” Cristiano moaned now, more to himself than to Wayne, although he knew that his partner was listening to him. “God … such a waste … and I was so close, so close, Wayne …”
Unaffectedly, Wayne stepped down from the chair now, watching contently how the corpse slightly swayed on the rope as he let go of it. Then, he carefully lay the chair down on the floor, just as if it had been kicked aside.
Obviously satisfied with his work he stepped away from the corpse hanging down from the chandelier, before he turned around to Cristiano - and froze.
“Cris, for fuck’s sake …,” Wayne eventually snarled, his voice dead-serious and containing that small menacing silver-steel edge, “finish your part of this job, now. Change the sheets, make sure that they’ll find nothing of you but will do find his farewell letter and then, for Christ’s sake, let’s get out of here … It’s bloody late …”
Cristiano slowly closed and opened his eyes again for that, something heavy lying on the back of his tongue.
“But … Wayne …,”he moaned again, the sound coming from the depths of his body now, as deep as his need ran, making sure that the Englishman’s eyes were on him as he started to writhe on the bed, the movements of his hand around his own length more urgent, “can’t you see how hard I am, still? … I thought of you, baby, only you, all the time that he fucked me. … God, Wayne, can’t you see … won’t you…?”
For a second, the silver glint was brightening up Wayne’s eyes again, revealing the predator within again. It vanished the next second, however, when Wayne simply threw the new bedding’s fabric in Cristiano’s direction, not even hesitating or considering once and without paying attention to Cris’ plea.
“Finish this job for me, baby … and I promise you I’ll finish you, as soon as we’re done with this …”
Not missing Wayne’s satisfied and dark grin, Cristiano eventually scrambled out of bed, putting on his clothes before he handed Wayne the letter and then changed the beddings of the bed.
He was finished in no time. He could feel Wayne’s gaze on him all the time, the Englishman observing his doings after he had placed the letter on their victims desk and had finished checking the setting twice. Even Wayne couldn’t find a flaw, though, and so he nodded in consent as Cristiano turned around to him.
“Finished. … So let’s get out of this place …”
Cristiano casted a last glance at the dead man they left behind, mentally marking this job as finished as well, before he stepped down the staircase right after Wayne.
*
Part 2 is here.
... if someone wants to say something to this beginning, feel encouraged ... ;)
Anyway. Here's my latest try. ...
Title: If there are no witnesses, there is no crime. Part I (AU)
Pairing: Wayne Rooney / Cristiano Ronaldo
Rating: R (for violence, language and sex)
Disclaimer: yeah. dream on.
for karneol_vision
inspired by this prompt at karneol_vision
gay serial killers armed and very dangerous.!!! partnership could either be stevie/fernando or wayne/cristiano. you could turn it into a all male bonnie&clyde.:)
If there are no witnesses, there is no crime. Part I
Silver.
If Cristiano had been to give this moment one certain color, it would have been silver.
Silver, just like the man’s eyes, the man who was on top of him, seemed to be in this particular moment, the stark moonlight reflecting in his lust-clouded eyes.
Silver, like handcuffs, just like he held Cristiano’s body in place as he thrust in and out of him, frantically; perhaps intoxicated by drinking in the sight and the feeling that was Cristiano, perhaps too drunk by now to act any different, Cristiano didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.
He just moaned as the man found this certain spot within him which made his insides burn with a heavy, stinging fire, heavy because of the intensity, stinging because it wasn’t quite as perfect as it should have been.
Not sensing any of this, the man’s eyes lit up now in something like triumph as he listened to Cristiano voicing his pleasure, his hands grabbing Cristiano’s body even tighter, pulling his hips even more flush so he could thrust into him more faster, harder, deeper. He was close, Cristiano could tell.
The man’s ring pressed cool against the skin of his hips. Again, silver, traitorous silver.
And now Cristiano could even smell that the man on top of him, rutting his hips against Cristiano’s with picking up the pace even more, was close, his beautiful features - beautiful, despite his age - giving him away as the man closed his eyes in this bittersweet ecstatic agony, his whole body trembling and suddenly tensing.
It was precisely this moment which Cristiano chose to cast a glance to the other side of the room, seeing someone stir in the corner immediately. He almost imagined silver glint lighting up there for a second. It was barely a second, and after that Cristiano threw himself even more into the man’s still wanton thrusts, hungry to get satisfaction himself, being not really close but close enough to give him an impression of how good it would be, if.
He didn’t get the chance.
Wayne’s timing was precise, as always.
Using the man’s current state of mindless bliss, he quickly made his way through the room, having the rope in his hand swung around the man’s neck from behind within a matter of seconds.
Again, Cristiano was met with silver eyes, this time staring at him in pure and utter shock, raw fear, as the man gave a surprised and frightened scream, struggling against the rope and against the man in his back. He stood no chance. Not against Wayne. They never did.
Cristiano looked back into this eyes with an indifferent smile, witnessing the struggle turning into defeat, and continued to grind his hips against the man’s groin, keeping him moving inside of him, as Wayne tightened the rope more and more, merciless. Or merciful, looking at that he made it happen as quickly as he could.
It was a race, a race Cristiano knew he could not win, Wayne way too accurate for that, and so he bucked up against the dying, spasming body frustratedly.
It was a matter of hardly two minutes before the man was dead.
As always, Wayne didn’t waste any time and dragged the man off of Cristiano as soon as his heart had stopped beating, carefully carrying the still warm corpse towards where the heavy chandelier hang.
“Where are his clothes …? … And did you finish the letter, please tell me you did …,”he asked, casually, as he lay the corpse unto the floor and turned around, looking for the man’s clothes. He found them discarded on the floor, without Cristiano having to tell him where they were. “Oh, Cris, you could have stripped him more carefully … would have spared us these creases. …Anyway, the letter… ”
“Have it … written … must only place it on the desk …,” Cristiano was panting and he was well aware of it, made no effort to hide it, even, just the opposite. “Goddamnit … Wayne, you could have … granted me two more minutes, you know? … his thrusts were so solid … god …”
Listening to Cristiano’s words or not, Wayne couldn’t be bothered to be interrupted with his work.
Instead, he now dressed the corpse again, soothing some of the creases, before he placed a chair under the chandelier. Then, plainly ignoring Cristiano now, he stepped onto the chair and dragged the corpse with him and, carefully making sure that he only touched everything with his gloves only, tied the other end of the rope to the chandelier, leaving the corpse hanging there, swaying slightly back and forth.
“.. Really, such a pity … oh, such a waste. A pretty man, he was, and such a gentleman. .. He even paid for my drinks …,” Cristiano mused on, writhing in the damp sheets, stroking himself, still so achingly hard, so painfully not-quite-close, as Wayne took of the ring from the man’s fingers, letting the silver disappear into one of his pockets, and then rubbed the man’s hands alongside the rope around his neck three times.
“I wish I could have ridden him…,” Cristiano moaned now, more to himself than to Wayne, although he knew that his partner was listening to him. “God … such a waste … and I was so close, so close, Wayne …”
Unaffectedly, Wayne stepped down from the chair now, watching contently how the corpse slightly swayed on the rope as he let go of it. Then, he carefully lay the chair down on the floor, just as if it had been kicked aside.
Obviously satisfied with his work he stepped away from the corpse hanging down from the chandelier, before he turned around to Cristiano - and froze.
“Cris, for fuck’s sake …,” Wayne eventually snarled, his voice dead-serious and containing that small menacing silver-steel edge, “finish your part of this job, now. Change the sheets, make sure that they’ll find nothing of you but will do find his farewell letter and then, for Christ’s sake, let’s get out of here … It’s bloody late …”
Cristiano slowly closed and opened his eyes again for that, something heavy lying on the back of his tongue.
“But … Wayne …,”he moaned again, the sound coming from the depths of his body now, as deep as his need ran, making sure that the Englishman’s eyes were on him as he started to writhe on the bed, the movements of his hand around his own length more urgent, “can’t you see how hard I am, still? … I thought of you, baby, only you, all the time that he fucked me. … God, Wayne, can’t you see … won’t you…?”
For a second, the silver glint was brightening up Wayne’s eyes again, revealing the predator within again. It vanished the next second, however, when Wayne simply threw the new bedding’s fabric in Cristiano’s direction, not even hesitating or considering once and without paying attention to Cris’ plea.
“Finish this job for me, baby … and I promise you I’ll finish you, as soon as we’re done with this …”
Not missing Wayne’s satisfied and dark grin, Cristiano eventually scrambled out of bed, putting on his clothes before he handed Wayne the letter and then changed the beddings of the bed.
He was finished in no time. He could feel Wayne’s gaze on him all the time, the Englishman observing his doings after he had placed the letter on their victims desk and had finished checking the setting twice. Even Wayne couldn’t find a flaw, though, and so he nodded in consent as Cristiano turned around to him.
“Finished. … So let’s get out of this place …”
Cristiano casted a last glance at the dead man they left behind, mentally marking this job as finished as well, before he stepped down the staircase right after Wayne.
*
Part 2 is here.
... if someone wants to say something to this beginning, feel encouraged ... ;)