Ficlet: Joey

[stormatdusk.livejournal.com]

Author: stormatdusk
Word count: 735
Rating: Adult
Warning: non-con. but trust me.
Disclaimer: This is only fiction. No harm intended.






He staggered to the edge of the pond and dropped to his knees.

Richie was dead. He'd killed Richie. Hell, he'd killed them all.

Opening exhausted eyes, he stared down at their blood on his shirt, on his skin. Suddenly he felt himself careening back in time, to another life, a long-dead persona.

What was that pulsing through his veins. Shock? Fear? Relief? Or maybe, just maybe, excitement?

Fuck.

How the hell did he ever think it would work to deny himself, his nature, as he'd tried to do all these years?

Well, no more. The past few minutes had slammed the truth back in his face. This is what he was born to, what he was made for. He threw back his head and laughed, finally giving up the pretense, casting off the yoke of respectability.

Joey was back.

A movement caught his eye. Crouching, he watched a gleaming black Bentley enter the grounds and wind its way up to the huge garage. Joey sneered to himself. Ritchie had always been into cars, the showier the better. Trying to make up for his lack of balls, no doubt.

The driver didn't see Joey. But he sure as hell noticed the driver. Dark curls, young. Pretty. Joey's lips curled in a wicked grin.

It had been too fucking long.

When he reached the garage, the driver was bent over, polishing the chrome around a headlight. He must've just taken the car to be washed. Joey felt his cock jump, his mouth water.

The kid never saw him coming. Joey slammed him onto the hood of the Bentley, driving the breath from him.

"What the..!" the younger man gasped.

He wrenched the kid's shirt out of his pants and up, leaving handprints in blood on the crisp white cotton and exposing a tanned, smooth back. Trapping the slim hips with his own, Joey's iron grip pinned the driver's neck against the hood, still warm from the engine. He bent and lewdly dragged his tongue up the long expanse of exposed skin.

"You'd better get out of here!" the terrified man tried to arch away. "Mr. Cusack's got security people – "

"I'm wearing their blood, kid," Joey murmured. He reached around to tear open the younger man's belt and zipper, and jerked the uniform down over his buttocks.

"Oh, God," the driver panicked. "Please don't do this!"

Joey kicked his knees apart and brutally drove two fingers into the younger man, shoving and twisting, thrilling at the anguished cry of pain and surprise. Joey's cock surged, wanting into the helpless body beneath him.

He removed his fingers and replaced them with his aching shaft, pushing slowly, relentlessly into the tight heat. The driver moaned against the car, fingers twitching in a useless bid for escape.

Fully ensheathed, the reborn mobster stilled, leaning over his beautiful victim. He slid a blood-stained hand through his dark hair, tangling the curls around his fingers in another declaration of control.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he growled. "I'll make sure you get off, too." He punctuated his promise with a sharp bite to the driver's throat, tearing another cry of protest from his victim.

Joey reared back and plunged into the tight channel. He set a brutal pace, unwilling to deny his long-repressed nature for even another minute. The panting and soft cries of his conquest only spurred him on. He reached under the overwhelmed man pinned beneath him and grasped the reluctant cock, forcing him to hardness.

"No, no – please…" the dark-haired man begged, breath catching as his body unwillingly responded. Joey took the challenge, snapping his hips against the smooth ass, feeding off the younger man's desperate thrashing. Long minutes passed; Joey grew stronger with each violent thrust.

"Do it, pretty boy," he snarled to his victim. The driver wailed as his body tensed and his cock spurted on the expensive car. Animal instincts in command, Joey grunted as he shoved in fully and then froze, pouring his seed into younger man.

Both men lay panting for several long moments, before the younger man lifted his head and turned to face his attacker.

"God, that was hot!" Orlando beamed. "You weren't kidding when you said to prep well!" He giggled. "We don't have to wait till next birthday to do it again, do we, 'Joey'?"

Viggo grinned at his glowing lover, and kissed him until his straining lungs forced their parting.

"Best birthday fantasy ever, baby," he breathed, stroking his face with tender fingers. "Thank you."



end.