About Tehuti
I am an amateur writer of novels, serials, and novellas. Most of my work is in the genres of fantasy, mythology, drama, occult, GLBT, and erotica.
As I'm not seeking publication, I offer my work online for free reading. I'm not seeking stylistic critique so much as feedback from people who just like reading what I write. I love hearing what people think of my characters, plots, themes, etc., so if you have any comments or advice on those, feel free to share. I'm not hugely popular and often go many months without hearing from readers so I enjoy all the comments I get!
My interests are Ojibwa mythology, Mackinac Island, Egyptian mythology, Jungian symbolism and dream interpretation, ritual crime, fantasy writing, and various other things you can find in my personal bio, available just to the right. Please click to learn more about me and what I'm looking for in terms of readers and potential friends.
Feel free to hit me up if you're interested in any of these things, and enjoy my writing!
Tar! :)
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Last Warning RAPE WARNING
CODE: D (set in the D Is For Damien storyline)
TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): Scene 1: Magic City (unwritten); Scene 2: NA
PAIRING: Stan Brooks/William (M/M)
EXPLANATION: During one time surfing online I came across an incident involving diver Greg Louganis. It turned out that he had once been raped by his boyfriend, at knifepoint, and had not reported the incident for various reasons--fear, denial, you name it. I was surprised to learn this...and that bit of reading turned into "Last Warning," the first scene given here. (This is one of the very few times I can actually remember where I got a specific idea from--I usually just get a random idea in my head and it grows from there, and I forget how I even came up with it.) In the unwritten Minot sequel Magic City, Det. Devetko's boyfriend, Stan Brooks (see "Consummation"), opens his apartment door to find...his old ex-boyfriend, Will. It's obvious almost from the start that there is bad blood between the two of them. I just wrote this scene as it came to mind, and this was how it played out--as an argument stemming from what looked to have been an unstable past relationship, which quickly escalated into a sexual assault. Brooks is normally one of the most levelheaded characters in my fiction, but in this case, even though his two closest friends are both cops, he decided to hang up the phone...and destroy almost all the physical evidence. Though it seems unbelievable, even rational people can make truly stupid decisions when under enough stress. The outcome of the first scene here is given in the PG-13 "Random Scene 3," which was posted long before this ever was. There was meant to be a followup scene in which Brooks describes what happened to him, but it's too difficult to write. :/ Now, what about the SECOND scenario here, "Rude Awakening"? This was in fact a much later idea. My idea of the past relationship between Brooks and Will just continued to evolve...and I learned NOW that it had been quite abusive...and that the events as outlined in "Last Warning" were not ENTIRELY accurate. Notice how Will's assault seems like this is the very first time this has ever happened to Brooks? It turns out that's not quite true. The attack in Magic City was only one in a long line of beatings and assaults which characterized their relationship. I just hadn't known it at the time that "Last Warning" was written, thus it's inaccurate and in need of revision. I've decided to leave it the way it is for now. "Rude Awakening" is not Will's first rape on Brooks, either; that scene has not been written. (I'm hoping it's obvious from the way Brooks reacts to being slapped that he's gone through this before and has learned to just not fight back anymore.) ...All of that having been learned, "Last Warning" left some uneasy questions. WHY does Brooks let Will into his apartment like that, knowing what Will can do? Why does he turn his back on him, even after Will pulls out a knife? Would he still have done those things if I had written the scene with the knowledge of what went before? Well, apparently yes, because those things DO still happen in the scene; it's only what Brooks is THINKING that has to be rewritten. So why such blatant oversights? I think that by the time "Last Warning" takes place (a couple of years or so after the two of them had broken up), Brooks has actually managed to convince himself that what had happened in the past had been very minor, that he had deserved it, that he feels he's gotten over it and can defend himself better, or maybe even he's in denial that it had ever happened. To put it bluntly, I really don't know WHAT he's thinking when he opens the door and turns his back; I'm as confused as anything. If anyone ELSE has any ideas, I'd appreciate hearing them! Anyway...before these scenes were written, Stan Brooks was just a shallow, dippy character I didn't much care for; always cheerful, sometimes silly, and just "Dev's boyfriend," almost a token character. After writing these, I found that I admired him a whole lot more--imagine being as cheerful and outgoing as he is, while you're carrying all of THIS in your past.
DISCLAIMERS: Mild inconsistencies in Brooks's thoughts in "Last Warning," before I knew that this was not the first rape (see above). Also, even though I think I made it clear above--these two scenes are NOT in chronological order. "Rude Awakening" actually happened a couple of years or so before "Last Warning."
* * * * *
Last Warning
A sharp knock broke Brooks out of his doze. He pushed himself up and went to the door, unlatching and opening it, and peering out. He frowned when he saw who stood there.
"I need to talk to you," William muttered. Brooks was certain that he would have pushed his way in had he been able. Instead he stood with a sulky, irritated look on his face, until Brooks sighed and stepped to the side, opening the door wider and waving one hand.
Will did push his way in now, and Brooks shut the door behind him. He turned to see that Will had done the same, clasping his hands together and glancing around the room.
Brooks waited for him to speak, then shrugged. "Well?"
"I need to talk to you about something."
"I believe you went over that already."
Will's look was annoyed. "There's no need to get bitchy."
Brooks sighed. "I'm sorry, then. But if you're here for a reason, you may as well be upfront."
Will averted his eyes. "I'm sorry too, then. Look, can we just sit down and talk?"
"You can sit and talk all you want, just so long as you get it over with." Brooks walked further into the room and Will followed.
"You've always been like that, you know," he groused. "Trying to get everybody to clam up so you can change the subject."
"Do you even remember what the subject was?" When Will glared at him he waved his arms again and shut his eyes.
"Never mind...just tell me what it is, okay?"
"I heard you're going out with somebody."
Brooks stared at him for a moment. "Heard?"
"Well--?"
He held up one hand. "Yes, I've been 'going out' with somebody. It's been about a year now though, so it's not like it's news."
"It's the first I've heard of it."
"Then you've been talking to the wrong people."
"So how come you never told me?"
Brooks blinked. "Why does it matter?"
Will scowled. "So us two..." he waved his hand between them "...we didn't mean anything?"
"You were the one who dumped me, remember?"
"Nobody 'dumped' anybody."
Brooks snorted humoredly. "Oh, I see."
"Look, that isn't what I came here about."
"Then could you get to the point?"
"I just thought it was kind of abrupt of you to just forget about us like that..."
Brooks bit his lip. "For one thing, it was about six or seven months afterward. For another, it's not like you were exactly clinging on, begging me to come back. Last thing I knew we were allowed to see other people once we broke up."
His ex's scowl only grew. "And so what if I said I made a mistake, would everything we did together mean nothing?"
"You broke up with me. You didn't think it was a mistake then. You didn't think so for the past year. It's awfully convenient that now that I'm with Chance you decide to get all pissy."
"Chance? Is that his name?"
"His name isn't any of your business. You said your goodbyes, so I said mine. I think the expiration date on second chances was long ago."
Will took a step forward. "You're not even listening to me."
"That's because you have nothing new to say."
"I would if you'd give me the damn chance!"
"What do you think I've been doing? You've been ranting the whole time you've been here, and none of it is any different."
"Ranting?" Will hissed. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Brooks stared at him for a moment before speaking, voice quiet. "I think you should go."
"The hell with that! Now you think I'm like some crazy bastard coming in here spewing shit at you? When all you can do is bitch in return?"
Brooks stepped around him now, putting his hand on the doorknob, voice still level. "I think you should go now."
Will surged forward, jabbing a finger at his chest. "I'm not going until you fill me in on what's been going on."
"That's none of your business."
"What about this Chance guy, are you fucking him now?"
Brooks pulled the door open, voice deadly low. "Get out."
"Not until you tell me!"
"Now."
Will pushed the door shut. Brooks watched it slam, jerking his hand away to avoid being pulled off balance. Anger surged up in his chest but he said nothing, instead looking Will in the eye, a silent threat.
Will pointed at him again, his own voice low now. "You tell me what's been going on between you two."
"If you want the police to drag you out, I'll gladly oblige."
"What the hell does he have over me? Why won't you tell me?"
Brooks started walking toward the phone. "Your choice."
He reached it and picked it off of the stand, only to have Will slam it, and his hand, back down again. He gave him a venomous glare and yanked his hand free.
"If you don't get the hell out--"
"Would you just TELL me?" Will shouted, waving his arms. "Let me know what I did wrong, why you won't even listen to me anymore!"
"Because this is what you have to say, Will. Just the same old shit. Like always. Everybody is always in the wrong except you."
"I never said that--"
"You say it all the time. You know I was actually upset at first when you dumped me? Eventually I figured out it was the best thing, considering."
Will's eyes widened, then narrowed to ugly slits. "You son of a--"
"If you don't get out of here now, you're going to have cops cuffing and dragging your ass out. Consider this your last warning."
Will nodded, spreading his arms, still with that ugly look. "So this is what it all boils down to, huh? What everything means in the end. Having the cops drag me out like some criminal."
"Your choice." He pointed at the door. "I've been kind enough so far. I don't think I'm obligated anymore. Now git."
"Kind?" This time Will actually bared his teeth like a dog. "That's what you call this, treating me like this and telling me to get out? Kind? I said I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on with the two of you!"
"Then you have a DAMN LONG wait because you're not going to hear it!" He picked up the phone again and put it to his ear, hearing it buzz. "Seven numbers, Will. If you aren't out of here by then, then don't blame me if you have to spend the night in a cell."
He had barely enough time to press the first number when Will had surged forward again with a hiss, hand whipping from his pocket and out toward the phone cord. Brooks jerked his hand back when the receiver disconnected from the stand, the cut cord dangling uselessly. The anger flared up a second time and he could barely control the rage in his voice when he spoke.
"Does that make you feel better, now?"
Will said nothing, but held up the knife. Brooks had never seen anyone's eyes look so vicious. He dropped the phone back into its cradle and turned to face him, hearing the blood roaring in his own ears.
"What, so you're going to use that to make your point? Makes you feel all big and manly, doesn't it?"
"Shut up!" Will shrieked.
"Go ahead!" When Will didn't respond he turned toward the bedroom. "Fine. You just wait here and I'll call them from the other phone. Make it all easy for you since that's what matters most, right?"
He made his way to the other side of the room, knowing that it could be stupid to turn his back on someone with a knife. But Will had shown so far that he had little more than bluster to him. He wasn't going to allow himself to be bullied in his own apartment. He recited Devetko's number in his head as he neared the door, as if afraid of forgetting it. When he heard Will rushing up behind him, he only kept walking, expecting to be yelled at or, at the most, hit in the back. Will had always been a coward, that was for certain.
Which was why it caught him completely by surprise when Will's arm wrapped around his neck, yanking his head back painfully. His eyes grew and his hands scrabbled to get a hold and to unblock his windpipe; when he tried to yell at him the only thing that came out was a broken choked sound. Just as he started to sway dizzily he felt the chokehold on his neck release and gasped for air only to feel someone grab onto his hair, pulling his head back again, the knife pressing to his throat. Tears of pain filled his eyes and he snarled angrily. "You son of a bitch--"
The knife pressed harder against his vein and Will hissed in his ear. "I told you I wasn't going to leave until you told me."
"Fuck you!" Brooks choked again when Will yanked his head further back. His lungs burned from lack of air.
"Fuck me?" Will whispered, voice now calm and hideous. "I don't think so. I think you've got that the wrong way around, friend."
The chokehold resumed around his neck. He clamped his hands over Will's arm and tried to pull it free, but the lack of air was causing his muscles to grow weaker. He felt Will pull him, stumbling and gasping for breath, along the hallway, and finally, dimly realized where he was taking him. The same way he'd been going already, to get to the phone.
His heart hammered up into his chest as if struggling to break free. His fingernails gouged into Will's arm and he would have bitten him, if he were able. He dimly heard Will hiss with pain, but his grip didn't loosen. If anything it grew even tighter, and Brooks had to struggle to remain conscious as the apartment grew hazy around him.
Abruptly, they stopped moving, and he felt himself fall onto something soft. He sucked in a pained breath as the room cleared around him and noticed that he'd fallen on his bed. He attempted to push himself up, only to feel something slam down into him, pinning him flat and knocking the breath out of him. Will's voice came close to his ear.
"You don't tell me why I'm not good enough anymore, and so I'll just show you I am."
Brooks struggled against him, nearly frothing at the mouth. "You crazy fucked-up--"
"Ah, so you think I am crazy, then? See that, a cheat and a liar rolled into one. I guess I really know how to pick 'em."
"The only cheat and liar in here is YOU, you cheap piece of--"
He broke off in a gasp to feel Will's knee grind into his back. The knife--which he'd forgotten about, for the moment--pressed against his neck again and he instantly stopped struggling.
"If you want your neck aerated, then you'll keep blathering. If not, then you'll shut up."
Brooks ground his teeth in rage. He gasped again when Will grabbed and twisted his arm behind his back, and made the mistake of crying out. He was certain that the knife would slice into his jugular, ending the whole thing. For a brief second he hoped that it would. Then Devetko's face flashed before his own, and he fell still again, biting off the scream that he felt rising in his throat.
If I die--then what about him?
Will's voice, close to his ear again. "Consider that your last warning."
Brooks didn't reply. Will knelt down on his arm to keep it behind his back, the knife still at his throat, reaching down with his free hand to yank down Brooks's shorts and underwear. Brooks heard the sound of him unbuckling and unzipping his own pants, and heard the sharp, angry spurt of his breath; only when Will resumed his hold on his arm, knees forcing his legs apart and pressing down hard on his thighs, did the fear finally rise up inside him, the fear of not only what was going to happen to him, but of what Chance would think. This thought caused the panic to seep up into his throat at an alarming speed, tugging at his vocal chords, a terrified whine rising along with it--but the knife effectively cut it off once more before the sound could be realized, and, unable to decide which was worse--this, or dying--he fell still again, breath heaving wildly. He couldn't even feel Will's knees grinding into his legs anymore, could only feel his own inability to move, to stop this.
"What do you think, huh?" Will spat at him. "Am I being kind enough for you?"
He didn't answer, had no answer. He had no time to consider his options before Will moved, pushing himself up and above him, then plunging down and forward and into him with such sudden force that Brooks gasped brokenly at the air, feeling as if his guts had just been impaled and then ripped from him when Will pulled back, then plunged in again. His face pressed down into the mattress, sheets choking off the scream that finally did manage to escape him so it came out as nothing more than a muffled cry. Will's knees and hips pinned him down as hard as any shackles as he continued to thrust hard and violently, breath hissing in his throat and his spittle flecking the back of Brooks's neck.
"How's this?" Brooks dimly heard him pant, as if from far away, yet all too near. "Am I being...kind enough...for you?"
Brooks offered no answer, his head starting to swirl in blackness from lack of air. After several moments he felt the knife leave his throat, pressing to his back instead as Will gripped his pinioned arm; the fingers of his other hand knotted in Brooks's hair and yanked his head back so harshly that he gurgled in protest, neck bared. He was suddenly awake again, his scalp on fire, his neck and lungs screaming in agony.
"I suppose you two like it like this, huh?" Will snarled, pulling his hair with every push. "Do you ride him or does he ride you? Which one of you is the little boy and which one is the man? You have fun doing this every night? Is he well hung? Do you ever let him mouth you? You enjoy it when he does you? Do you like--doing--him?"--with each word, an even more vicious thrust, even deeper inside him, feeling like a white-hot poker ramming up inside his intestines.
He merely let out a pathetic rasping sound, unable to speak. Tears--not of shame, as he was too numb to feel it, but from physical pain--streamed from his eyes and down his cheeks. And even that pain started to die away the faster that Will moved inside him, pushing and panting hoarsely. Brooks felt an odd numbness creep over him, enveloping his body like a protective shell, gently expelling him so he floated beyond it, beyond himself...he no longer struggled to breathe, as breathing wasn't of importance anymore. He could see his ex-boyfriend holding him down on the bed and thrusting into him, and briefly wondered who this was, with his shorts bunched around his knees, backside bared, bruises forming on his thighs and wrist. Only when he saw his own glazed, out-of-it eyes, ribs rising and falling in exhaustion, spittle pooling from the corner of his mouth to dampen the sheets, did he realize that it was really him, but found that he no longer cared. A strange peace entered him, just as the warmth entered his limbs and body, and he turned from the two, deciding that he would go someplace else, get away from the unpleasant scene entirely. He was no longer a part of this.
That was when his eyes fell on the telephone sitting beside the bed, several feet from his reach.
Seven digits--the seven digits of Devetko's work number--entered his head, the same seven digits he'd been rehearsing on his way there before he had been overpowered. And as soon as he thought of them, he thought of Chance. Chance's cool gray-blue eyes, his slight, warm, friendly smile. The way that his body felt against Brooks's, how his fingers gently caressed him. How he was there. How he was alive. How he would be left behind.
What he would think.
With a shock his eyes popped open and he gasped, coming fully conscious again. He choked back the bile rising in his throat just as Will gave a harsh groan and ground deep into him, splaying him wide, the spurt of his semen a searing flame through Brooks's insides. Brooks jerked when he felt his own release, seed pooling around his hips, dampening the sheets, a brief bit of uncontrolled physical pleasure in spite of his own terror. He moaned into the mattress as his full capacities came roaring back, fear, agony, fury, humiliation roaring along with them, crowding any other thoughts from his head. He shuddered in disgust to feel Will sliding out from him, limp and flaccid once more, and felt his own wetness, knowing that the attack had been more violent than he'd feared. His attacker let out a short, angry laugh.
"So...not quite as awful as you thought I was, was I? Still somehow managed to get it up for you, huh? That's nice, considering what a piece of shit you think I am compared to him."
He spat when he said this last word, and Brooks squeezed his eyes shut, ribs heaving, willing the pain to go away. It didn't, and Will snorted at him.
"Figures. Never a word to say to the one who supposedly meant so much to you. I wonder if you're the same way with this Chance guy."
"You..." Brooks's voice came out faint and muffled, barely audible against the drool-dampened sheets. He struggled to get the words out. "You...can call him...Devetko."
"Devetko?" Another laugh, this one louder. "Okay then, Devetko. Apparently I'm not good enough to call your boyfriends by their first names, huh? All right. I take the hint. I won't make that mistake again, believe me."
He pushed himself up, releasing Brooks's legs, his weight leaving him so abruptly that Brooks let out a pained wheeze, fingers digging into the sheets. He tried to move, only to realize how truly exhausted he was. His muscles refused to work, no matter how much he wished them to.
He heard Will stand up behind him, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. "There, then," he said as he adjusted himself. "I suppose you really won't tell me just what the fuck is wrong with the two of us being together. Have it your way then. If this 'Devetko' guy is really so much better than I am."
Brooks didn't reply. He willed the numbness to take over, to come back, and was relieved to feel it seeping once more into his bones. Perhaps, if he imagined it strongly enough, he could forget that any of this had ever happened...if it even had. He knew that it had...but perhaps, he could forget...
"Still not talking to me?" Will's voice cut through his thoughts. Please, please, send me back into the dark, I can't deal with this right now! "I guess you really do have a problem with me, huh? Nothing I can do to get your mouth open, to get you to speak up? What about this, would this convince you to talk?"
Fingers knotted in his hair again, forcing his head back so his mouth fell open. Before he could shout, something thick was forced down his throat. His eyes flew open and he started struggling, choking and unable to breathe. Will laughed breathlessly, forcing Brooks's head against his crotch. "Well, you missed your chance to speak your piece," he panted, pushing his hips; Brooks gagged on his hardness, coming so rapidly after his first attack. Fortunately the end of this second unexpected assault came quickly as well, and he flailed weakly, struggling to breathe as a bitter warmth filled his throat. His head was finally released and he fell to the bed, coughing and spitting hoarsely.
"Does he do that, too?" Will's voice, from somewhere far above him, entered his thoughts. "Do you like doing that together...?"
A faint laugh, from even further away. A zipping sound, and the snap of what he assumed was the knife going back into its sheath. He lay gasping and broken on his soiled bed, dimly hearing his assailant leave the room, the far-distant click of his apartment door opening and closing. After this a silence as thick as cotton filled his ears until they rang, and the numbness failed to overtake him, instead dwelling with him partly before gradually drawing away, leaving him pained and humiliated and defiled in his own room.
He lay there for what seemed to be a long time, waiting for the blackness to come, which it didn't...only after he believed that he had regained at least a bit of his strength did he lift his head and push himself up with a soft groan, agony piercing every bit of his being. He gasped for breath to stave off the dizziness that threatened to send him crashing; eyes bleary and cloudy, he glanced down to see the puddle of his own semen staining the bed beneath him. How could he have done that? How could he have been excited by that? Choking on his own disgust, he tore the dirtied sheet from the bed, flinging it to the floor. As soon as he stood up he leaned forward again to pull his shorts and underwear from him, the blood which ran down his legs staining them already. He couldn't stand to have them on him, to have that feeling still inside him.
He calmed his breath and forced himself to sit down again, on an untouched section of the bed, reaching for the telephone. He put the receiver to his ear and dialed as carefully as he could with shaking hand, the seven digits he had meant to call earlier, the seven digits that he knew so well.
On pressing the seventh number, the dull buzz on the other end broke into a patterned ring. It rang once and a half before breaking again, a familiar voice, a voice that he welcomed more than anything, speaking into his ear. "Detective Devetko."
And...the dull buzzing broke in again, cutting off the familiar voice. Brooks felt his finger slide away from the hangup button and slowly lowered the phone from his ear, staring off into space. The voice that he had wanted so much to hear...he dreaded it now, beyond anything else. Dreaded hearing it, dreaded having to respond to it, to tell it what had just happened to him. Dreaded it, above all, telling him what its owner thought as soon as he found out.
Still shaking, he reached out and put the receiver back on the stand. He cupped his hands together, panting and shaking and uncertain of what to do. And the decision finally entered his head. Knowing that it was wrong, still, he got up, removing the rest of his clothes and the sheets, dumping them in the hamper, and heading unsteadily for the bathroom. As soon as he shut and locked the door he flicked on the shower, and it wasn't until the water poured down in a scalding hot stream that he climbed in, shuddering as it turned his skin red, yet welcoming the purge that it brought.
He shut his eyes and let out his breath and let the hot stream spray over his face, willing his thoughts away.
Rude Awakening
Will sat up with a short gasp, hand going to his head. Wow. What a dream that had been. Still panting for breath, he glanced down at himself and smiled a bit. Yep. It was still there. The erotic dream had acted as well as any aphrodisiac, and now he was erect, and had nothing to do with it. Well...that was, unless...
He glanced down beside him. Brooks lay asleep on his stomach, arm propped on his hands. His breathing was slow and even. Will's smile grew. Perfect. Perfect position and everything. He leaned down and gently nudged his partner's shoulder.
"Stan. Hey, Stan. Wake up."
Brooks shifted and murmured something unintelligible before falling still again. It was obvious that he didn't want to wake up. Will lost his smile and frowned at him in annoyance before nudging harder, shaking him now.
"Stan. Stan. Wake up, will you? I want you to see this."
Brooks finally started moving again, turning his head and mumbling, "What?"
"I had this dream, man. It was so great." He smiled now to remember the vivid images of riding his partner, and having him suck at him... "I'm still hard, Stan. I thought you might like to fuck, get it off my mind maybe."
Brooks seemed to flinch almost imperceptibly at the word. Will knew that he hated it, but that was all it was, just a word. Sometimes he used it specifically to annoy him, though he didn't mean anything by it. Anybody who allowed themselves to be upset by a word was too uptight.
He leaned down to touch Brooks's shoulder again. "What do you say? Let's do it and get it over with."
"I don't want to."
"Come on. It's just one little thing, then you can go right back to sleep if you want to be an asshole about it."
"I don't feel like it," Brooks murmured, turning his head away again. Will scowled and clutched his shoulder.
"Jeez, you're always such an ass about this. It's just one time. Not like it'll disturb you too much or anything, you don't even have to move unless you want to." He pulled off his shorts, then got up and swung his leg over Brooks's. "It won't take any time at all, I promise."
"Will." Brooks lifted his head. "I said I don't want to."
"Come on."
"No. Just let me go back to--"
"You can go back to sleep when I'm done, all right?" Will's voice rose out of desperation. "Come on, man, before I lose it!"
"You're not going to die if you go without for once."
Another scowl. "Of course, you would say that."
"Look. I want to sleep. I don't want to do this right now. Go back to bed or go take a shower or something." He dropped his head once more, burrowed it against his arm.
Will glared down at him, practically biting his tongue off. Asshole. Telling him to go back to sleep, just like that? With a hard-on like this? Right. He reached for his partner's shorts and started pulling them down.
Brooks's head shot back up. "Will--"
"It'll be really quick, I promise."
"I don't care what you promise. Cut it out, get off."
"I'm hard already!"
"Get off!"
"For God's sake, it's just one little fuck!" Will exclaimed, exasperated.
Brooks started struggling underneath him. "Get off," he said again, reaching up behind him to try to push Will off. "I don't want to do this."
"Why are you so damn picky about this? It's the same as any other time--stand still and let me get it over with!"
"Get off!"
Will growled and slapped Brooks's hands away, then grabbed onto his wrists and held his arms down at his sides. Brooks paused for a moment, as if surprised, before squirming again, dropping his head to the bed and baring his teeth. What the hell was wrong with him?
"Get off, Will. I don't want to right now!"
"It's too late. I'm already in."
So saying, he aimed himself for the cleft in Brooks's buttocks--it was difficult, since he couldn't part them with his hands, damn Brooks for fighting like that--when he struggled again, heaving himself upward and nearly knocking Will off. Will let out a small snarl of irritation and, releasing one arm, slapped him in the face. Brooks fell still, and Will was able to push inside him, sighing contentedly. He kept his hand free of Brooks's wrist, but held onto his other one just in case.
"You see?" he murmured, sighing again as he began to move. "It's not that tough. I'll be just a minute, then you can get back to your precious sleep."
Brooks said nothing. He'd gone completely limp when Will had hit him, and he felt a brief twinge, hoping that he hadn't hit him too hard. What if he was unconscious, or injured? He hadn't hit him that hard, it was just a slap!
Frowning, he leaned over to look his partner in the eyes, only now seeing that they were open, yet they stared off into nothing. Wherever Brooks was, it didn't seem to be here.
"Well," he muttered, "you could at least pretend to enjoy it..."
Giving up, he sat upright atop Brooks's buttocks and began pushing anew, groaning heavily with each one. With one hand he squeezed Brooks's buttock. God, he had such a nice ass. It was one of the things that had first caught his eye before they met. Rather than hold his arm down now, he ran his hand up along Brooks's shoulder and down his side, stopping at his hip.
"Jeez, if you'd been a bit more civil I might be able to play around with you, get you to enjoy this too...but since you want your stupid sleep so much, I'll try to hurry just to spare you the trouble..."
Brooks said nothing, only lay still. Will decided to ignore his silence, and bore into him hard, as far as he could go, gritting his teeth and gasping. This was perfect, the perfect solution to that dream. Squeezing his lover's hips, he ground his teeth and groaned a loud groan, enjoying his tight feel. He'd always felt tight for some reason. Whatever, Will liked it.
"Yeah," he murmured, necklace swinging as he moved. "Like a tight little virgin, you are, just needing a good plowing...well, I've got just the seed for you..."
True to his word, he didn't keep at it long. He hadn't even told Brooks about the oral yet. When he finally finished with a heavy sigh of joy, fluid flowing warm from his body to empty into his partner, he felt Brooks tighten underneath him, knew that he'd come too. And smiled again.
"See, told you you'd enjoy it if you just relaxed..."
He pulled himself out and rolled off, landing on his back, panting softly. Brooks lay limp and unmoving. After some time Will glanced back over at him, then shrugged and sat up again, smiling.
"Well...since you don't want to tell me you thought it was great...how about we try again? With something different this time, huh?"
No answer. Will rose to his knees and turned Brooks over. He swung his leg again, pressed his crotch down to Brooks's face so he had to struggle to breathe. Will solved that by grabbing his arms again--"Hold still! Do you think I'm gonna choke you?"--and starting to rock. When Brooks's teeth nipped against him--on accident, Will knew, but just as bad--he hissed and slapped him again, more lightly this time, but hard enough to make his point. Again, the body beneath him completely relaxed, as if on cue, arms not even straining against Will's grip anymore. Will gave a halfhearted snort as he moved.
"Well at least you get the point fast enough, though I shouldn't have to remind you in the first place. Just keep standing still since you want to be such a baby about this and you can go back to bed when I'm done. Okay?"
No reply. He took Brooks's head and moved his mouth against him, as Brooks wasn't making any motions. It was displeasing that he didn't even use his tongue, but Will decided to spare him another slap. Might cause him to bite again. Instead he ground harder, upwards this time, letting his head fall back and letting out a harsh groan. His fingers tangled in Brooks's hair, caressing his scalp; he wished that he could see if his partner were excited or not. He didn't act so, but with the way things could go...who would know for certain.
He gave a whoop when he climaxed this time, hips shuddering out his seed into Brooks's mouth. Almost immediately Brooks pulled away from him, spitting and gagging. When he started coughing Will's face screwed up, hurt and annoyed and pissed off all at once.
"Hey! You're not supposed to spit!" he cried, swiping Brooks on the top of the head so that he almost immediately stopped coughing. "You're supposed to swallow it, idiot!'
He gave an irritated sound and got off, brushing back his hair with one hand and giving his lover an evil glare. Brooks rolled onto his side, pushing himself up with one hand. The other hand pressed against his stomach in a tight ball, as if something bothered him.
Will pursed his lips as he lay back on his side of the bed, putting his arms behind his head. "Well...something wrong?"
Brooks didn't answer. Will frowned and nudged him hard in the small of his back.
"I said, something wrong?"
"N..." Brooks trailed off, and almost seemed to struggle to be able to speak. Will assumed that perhaps he'd swallowed a bit after all. "...No..."
"Then come on, lie down. Right here." He patted the bed beside him and smiled. "Don't be in such a lousy mood about all of this. Just c'mere and join me, all right?"
"Have to go to the bathroom..."
He pushed himself up and got haltingly to his feet. "Hey!" Will yelled again. "Where are you going? Don't you want to join me, keep me company? Why the hell are you so damn uptight?"
"I'll be right back," Brooks said in a small voice so Will almost didn't hear him. He relaxed then, hearing it.
"Well...all right. But make sure you are, or I'm coming in after you. Five minutes maximum. You can't possibly need much more time than that."
Brooks said nothing, just left the room, stumbling as he walked. Will wondered what had gotten into him. After a moment he heard the sound of...the shower, and started up, glancing around.
Shower...? His frown only grew; it must be him. He was taking a shower! What the hell for?
He growled in annoyance and lay back on the bed, putting his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He hated being kept waiting...and of all things, now he was thinking of his dream again, and wishing that he'd gotten in one more little screw before Brooks ran off. Maybe when he returned. He kept himself preoccupied by touching it then, rubbing gently and listening for the sound of the shower to stop.
It did, eventually...after about ten or fifteen minutes...and after several more minutes Brooks came back out, running his hand through his dripping hair. Will stared at him for a moment, and when he paused halfway across the room, patted the bed beside him again.
"Come on. I know I said five minutes, but I decided to be nice. Since you went along with me, and all."
Brooks stared down at the bed--not him, but at his hand--before moving forward. He wore a towel now and when he lay down, Will reaching to put his arms around him, he could feel his skin, still damp. He pressed his face to his neck, taking a deep breath. The soapy smell intoxicated him.
"Why'd you just leave me like that? Don't you know I don't like being here alone? I care about you, you know."
"I know...I just...didn't feel well..."
"You don't sound too well, either." He kissed Brooks's neck. "I know this is an awful lot to ask and all...even before...but I'm still feeling for you. I know you just cleaned up, God knows why." He traced a finger along Brooks's jawline. "Could we do it again? Just a little quickie? To get this out of my system. I can't help it, you keep doing this to me." He kissed him again. "Do you mind?"
"No..."
Will smiled down at him and nibbled his ear. "See...it's not that hard. We both want the same thing...right?"
Brooks didn't answer him, but it didn't matter. He gently rolled him onto his back, wanting to see him this time. What the hell, why not do it his way, too. He undid the towel and wrapped a hand around the smooth member beneath him, feeling its heat. Brooks's muscles tensed and he let out a tiny sound, what, Will couldn't tell. He just grinned and stroked a few times, bending down to lick his neck.
"Yeah...I was going to go in you...but I thought, what the hell, you need some of this too, right...?"
His lover merely panted, eyes glazing. Forgot how much he wanted his sleep already, Will thought, smiling. He pushed himself up, guiding the hot, stiff penis inside him and coming down, liking the way that Brooks tensed and arched slightly against him, moaning softly. So much different from what they'd done before. He caressed Brooks's shoulders while he moved, swaying up and down, murmuring in pleasure. His hands moved to his lover's throat and touched it, then gently squeezed, almost a massage. When he began to move a bit deeper, he squeezed harder, in his lust not noticing how Brooks coughed when he did so, nor the way that he started to writhe uncomfortably. Instead he focused on moving faster, driving Brooks into him harder, deeper; he wished that he had someone else to fondle him as he moved, his member thrusting outward, straining for release. With a growl he pushed, squeezed, harder; pushed, squeezed, harder; pushed, squeezed, harder--
As if in response to his wish he felt a hand wrap around his penis--and squeeze--hard. He yelled in pain and felt it squirt, beyond his control; he let go and grabbed at himself in surprise. Beneath him, Brooks both flooded inside him and started coughing and choking loudly, at once. Will glared down at him to see that his face was red, and his hands held his throat as he gasped for air, Will's own semen slickening his chest. He didn't care about that though. That had hurt, and he was pissed.
"You stupid BASTARD!"
Brooks managed to peer up at him only to have Will's fist meet his face, driving his head back into the pillow. Will screamed in rage and struck him again on the other side so he spit blood.
"What are you trying to do, CASTRATE me? You dumb fucker, after all of that you STILL think of yourself first! Like I was going to kill you! You couldn't take that for ONE LITTLE MINUTE?"
"I'm...sorry," Brooks choked out, swiping the blood away from his split lip. Tears had sprung to his eyes.
"You BET you are! If you EVER try anything like that again, EVER--" Will balled his fist and shook it in Brooks's face so hard that he squinched his eyes shut and flinched away "--then...then...I can't even THINK of what I'd like to do to you for doing that!!"
"I'm sorry."
"That's not fucking good enough!" He slapped him this time. No need to overdo it. "I need to know you're NOT going to try that again!"
"I won't. I promise."
"And no more of this 'I don't feel like it!' when I feel like it! I've had enough of that shit!"
"I won't. I promise."
"Good." He snorted and then touched Brooks's face. Brooks flinched again and Will grated his teeth.
"For God's sake, get over it. None of this would've happened if you'd just gone along."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well, as long as you mean it, okay. I accept it." He kissed his cheek and ran his hand through his hair again, and smiled. "You know...you have a real nice smell after you've showered. Of course, I like however you smell...especially when you smell like me...do you like that, too?"
Brooks nodded, eyes shut. "Come on, open them up and look at me," Will said, and he did. His eyes somehow didn't meet Will's one hundred percent; it was as if he stared at something just to the side of his face, rather than look at him. Well...he guessed that it was good enough. With another snort he lifted himself from his partner and lay down at his side again, running his hand along his torso. Brooks sighed and shut his eyes again and Will smiled.
"Yeah, I know...you did like it...right?"
"Y...yes..."
"Of course you did. You tease." He chuckled and kissed him lightly. "Let's get a bit more sleep before the day begins, huh?" he murmured, snuggling next to and putting his arms around him. He sensed Brooks's muscles tighten slightly, then relax, and smiled to himself once more.
That was more like it.
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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)
I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.
Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.
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