of dirt and drains
title: of dirt and drains
author: dustywillow
pairing: karl urban/anton yelchin
rating: R; non-con & rape
disclaimer: I don't own any pretty boys, unfortunately.
notes: for a prompt, however due to lack of sleep, this went a little astray.
Karl had called him after he spoke to Chris Pine, a voice coiled in a phone that sounded static. He had made the rounds of keeping in touch with the unmasked faces of the Enterprise, even though it had only been four weeks after the premiere. Anton clutched his phone tightly, sinking deeply into Karl’s voice. It was foreignly familiar, and he was grateful to hear it over the chatting of Japanese crowds behind him. Anton felt a little guilty for neglecting to email and call as much as he said he would, slowly watching his film friends-more like his older brothers-drift away while they all flew cross-country to their next projects. Chris, Zoe and Zach stayed in America, hanging around for publicity, while Karl went home for a break and Anton flew in to Tokyo to shoot scenes for his next film.
“I’ve got at least two weeks until I fly back to the US. If you could make it in, I’d show you around, y’know.” Karl’s voice pooled out of the phone as Anton shaded his eyes, not from the sun, but from the metallic reflections of the bikes and cars passing him from the outdoor restaurant.
“I’d like to come visit. I have a day or two.”
After a solid two hours of watching the waves below him, Anton plugged in the headphones to the in-flight movie and chewed on the inside of his mouth. The heavy iron taste in his mouth left his mind blank, escaping the thought of him getting on a plane, already halfway around the world, ten hours and forty-three minutes from his destination to meet Karl again.
Anton kept picturing a smooth-faced man with an obvious 60s comb over, walking around the set with a tight black t-shirt and his tongue slick with the word goddamn rolling off every other second. He flicked open his phone, and watched as a few minutes longer a smiling, scruffy man strode towards him. In twenty more minutes, Anton shrugged off his bag and watched as a five o’clock summer sun slinked over the hills of New Zealand.
“Would you like a beer?” Karl grabbed the necks of two bottles, sliding one across the sleek wooden table. Anton sat slouched in the rigid chair, Karl’s palms flattening on the table as he leaned over to stare at Anton. The vibrant orange shards of the sun made Karl’s day-old scruff glint-tough. Anton just heaved a sigh and reached for the bottle, twisting off the cap and wondering why he couldn’t be older and wiser like Karl.
Karl slid into the chair next to Anton, and he could hear the soft scrape of the beer bottle against Karl’s whiskers. Anton’s big doe eyes drooped after his ten hour flight.
“It’s nice to see you again, Anton,” Karl said, running a hand through his short choppy hair. “It’s a little lonely in this house, after spending so much time around everyone.”
A small smile spread across Anton’s lips, cradling his head in his arms on the table. His beer sat neglected on the table. “Yeah. It’s hard to stop thinking of Chris and John fucking things up all the time, and you and your empty Bones flask.” Anton reached under the table and quickly patted Karl’s jean pocket. “See? Still not sinking in. You don’t have your flask on you.”
Anton could hear Karl’s smile somehow, a burst of silent laughter dangling in his deep throat. Anton imaged it sounded like the snap of a heavy dead branch, a woody, natural noise. Karl just told Anton that he needed to detach from work all the time. Curiously enough, the conversation drifted to Anton’s time in Japan and films they had considered and rejected, and even the garden Karl tried to plant four times outside his house but failed every time. Anton had always lived in the city, and Karl’s Scot-like accent seemed to wrap around every insult and praise of Anton’s life perfectly.
He was admittedly a lightweight, and after a few hours of talking and a beer later, Anton was feeling drowsy and warm, being a little more liberal in teasing Karl back when his words poked. He was smiling non-stop now, stretching the skin down his sharp cheekbones, making him look shallow and young.
“Did you know you’re attractive?” Anton’s thin stomach curved into a soft ‘c’ as he slouched in his chair, both hands clutching a second bottle of beer. Karl had been talking about what breed of dog he wanted to get, and stopped pronouncing his words as the boy gazed at him. Karl didn’t know why Anton had exactly willed himself to come, but Karl knew why he stayed. Anton looked up to him, but Karl did little less than want Anton. It was that damn slender neck and long tangled limbs that messed with Karl’s head since he met the boy.
Karl was watching Anton move, seemingly in slow motion. He reached over with sleepy eyes and traced his thumb along the crease under Karl’s eyes. Anton saw his forehead crease up, eyebrows bending up with concern, a spark of interest.
The gap was quickly closed between the two men as Karl stood up, standing between the knees of Anton, still sitting in his chair. Karl nuzzled Anton’s neck, scruff and smooth skin crashing horribly. Anton’s lingering cologne, smelling faintly of sweet basil, stuck to his fingers as he slid them up his throat, tilting up his jaw.
Anton drew in Karl’s face, cradling it questioning as he closed his eyes and kissed Karl quickly, uncertain and looking for something that wasn’t quite there.
He tasted of the beer, cherry and wheat, as Anton gingerly explored the roof of Karl’s mouth, the contours of his cheeks. Anton had never kissed a man before, never even having thought of it until this moment, but he found the clumsiness likeable. Their teeth clashed, necks twisting to gain an advantage over each other, a male instinct to conquer.
Karl still stood over him, a heaviness and almost dampness driving Anton firmly back into the chair. Anton wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew he wanted to pull back and think about what he was doing. Karl’s fingers stretching at the neck of his t-shirt was welcome yet uncomfortable, as Anton shifted to break away from Karl. He stared into his eyes, dark with want now.
“Karl, I’m sorry,” Anton said as Karl’s face dug back into his neck, “I-I just wanted to try it…”
His large hands were pressed against Anton’s ribcage. It hurt, and Anton tried to push Karl’s hands back, but they were too strong. Anton exhaled as Karl licked his neck, eyes fluttering shut. It felt so good Anton couldn’t resist, but Karl’s urgency and roughness scared him.
“Please.” He whimpered. Karl covered Anton’s mouth again and grabbed the waistband of Anton’s pants. He pushed against Karl’s shoulders, trying to back away from him once more. The pressure on his lower stomach sent a fiery fury of nerves in his body, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body from the touch. It wasn’t the right time, but his body was reacting exactly as it should. Anton just didn’t want it to.
As the kiss turned deeper and harder, Anton’s entire body struggled from wanting to pull in and push away the man at the same time. Finally, Karl pulled away. Anton concentrated on getting a breath, a bit of freedom to squirm away from Karl. Anton stared out the window over Karl’s back, trying to talk to him. “I’m sorry. Karl, please. Just not now?”
He was too concerned with apologizing to notice Karl, and in a second’s time, he felt his pants pulled down, Karl grip his back hard, and him ramming into Anton before he could stop the man. His eyes shut, tightly, wetness brimming his eyelashes. Karl was huge and blunt and it hurt, oh it was painful and Anton’s entire body throbbed. The breath was caught in his throat, and Anton latched onto Karl’s shoulders to pull himself up for air.
His chin was caught in the notch of Karl’s neck, ribcages crushing each other from the weight. Anton desperately wanted to get Karl away, but the mass pressed between his legs was too much to ignore. Karl began to push himself in, rough and fast, Anton yelping with pain. Karl was determined to reach as far as possible, shoving and biting on Anton’s thin collarbone.
As he began to rub, back and forth, Anton’s every nerve screamed. He was no longer able to fight back, and just went limp between the wooden frame and Karl’s massive body. He thought of the time he was with a girl, a sweet little girl, and everything was smooth and soft. She had warm, fleshy skin, not the thin layer that Anton had on his lower back, being scratched and squeezed by Karl.
There was a moment when the pleasure overcame the pain, just long enough for Anton to catch Karl’s tongue in his mouth and reactively moan, against his hoping it would all stop. Karl was practically straddling Anton and the chair, rhythmically drawing in air and groaning.
As much as Anton hated Karl at that moment, he still cared for the man. He grabbed the back of Karl’s neck, drew a handful of hair, and yelled as he thrust his hips into Karl’s for the final force. Karl came.
He was broken, neglected and hurt. Anton was raw when Karl pulled out, and was heavy with his seed. He could feel each wooden prong of the chair ingrained into his spine. He dangled on the chair, his pants stretched across his thighs, sitting in a pool of sticky liquid. Karl drew Anton’s face in for a deep kiss, and Anton threw his palm onto Karl’s face. He was too weak to push him away, so he closed his eyes and pretended that there was no way that Karl had neglected him. It was all a horrible hallucination, although there was a throbbing throughout his body that left him full of grief.
Anton pretended he wasn’t crying as the tears mingled with the cold water of the shower, mockingly numbing all the places Karl’s hand fell on him, yellowish stains blotting his body as the bruises formed. He wanted to stay underneath the artificial rainfall for as long as he could, because he knew that the bed he would lay down on that night had a man waiting in it for him.
author: dustywillow
pairing: karl urban/anton yelchin
rating: R; non-con & rape
disclaimer: I don't own any pretty boys, unfortunately.
notes: for a prompt, however due to lack of sleep, this went a little astray.
Karl had called him after he spoke to Chris Pine, a voice coiled in a phone that sounded static. He had made the rounds of keeping in touch with the unmasked faces of the Enterprise, even though it had only been four weeks after the premiere. Anton clutched his phone tightly, sinking deeply into Karl’s voice. It was foreignly familiar, and he was grateful to hear it over the chatting of Japanese crowds behind him. Anton felt a little guilty for neglecting to email and call as much as he said he would, slowly watching his film friends-more like his older brothers-drift away while they all flew cross-country to their next projects. Chris, Zoe and Zach stayed in America, hanging around for publicity, while Karl went home for a break and Anton flew in to Tokyo to shoot scenes for his next film.
“I’ve got at least two weeks until I fly back to the US. If you could make it in, I’d show you around, y’know.” Karl’s voice pooled out of the phone as Anton shaded his eyes, not from the sun, but from the metallic reflections of the bikes and cars passing him from the outdoor restaurant.
“I’d like to come visit. I have a day or two.”
After a solid two hours of watching the waves below him, Anton plugged in the headphones to the in-flight movie and chewed on the inside of his mouth. The heavy iron taste in his mouth left his mind blank, escaping the thought of him getting on a plane, already halfway around the world, ten hours and forty-three minutes from his destination to meet Karl again.
Anton kept picturing a smooth-faced man with an obvious 60s comb over, walking around the set with a tight black t-shirt and his tongue slick with the word goddamn rolling off every other second. He flicked open his phone, and watched as a few minutes longer a smiling, scruffy man strode towards him. In twenty more minutes, Anton shrugged off his bag and watched as a five o’clock summer sun slinked over the hills of New Zealand.
“Would you like a beer?” Karl grabbed the necks of two bottles, sliding one across the sleek wooden table. Anton sat slouched in the rigid chair, Karl’s palms flattening on the table as he leaned over to stare at Anton. The vibrant orange shards of the sun made Karl’s day-old scruff glint-tough. Anton just heaved a sigh and reached for the bottle, twisting off the cap and wondering why he couldn’t be older and wiser like Karl.
Karl slid into the chair next to Anton, and he could hear the soft scrape of the beer bottle against Karl’s whiskers. Anton’s big doe eyes drooped after his ten hour flight.
“It’s nice to see you again, Anton,” Karl said, running a hand through his short choppy hair. “It’s a little lonely in this house, after spending so much time around everyone.”
A small smile spread across Anton’s lips, cradling his head in his arms on the table. His beer sat neglected on the table. “Yeah. It’s hard to stop thinking of Chris and John fucking things up all the time, and you and your empty Bones flask.” Anton reached under the table and quickly patted Karl’s jean pocket. “See? Still not sinking in. You don’t have your flask on you.”
Anton could hear Karl’s smile somehow, a burst of silent laughter dangling in his deep throat. Anton imaged it sounded like the snap of a heavy dead branch, a woody, natural noise. Karl just told Anton that he needed to detach from work all the time. Curiously enough, the conversation drifted to Anton’s time in Japan and films they had considered and rejected, and even the garden Karl tried to plant four times outside his house but failed every time. Anton had always lived in the city, and Karl’s Scot-like accent seemed to wrap around every insult and praise of Anton’s life perfectly.
He was admittedly a lightweight, and after a few hours of talking and a beer later, Anton was feeling drowsy and warm, being a little more liberal in teasing Karl back when his words poked. He was smiling non-stop now, stretching the skin down his sharp cheekbones, making him look shallow and young.
“Did you know you’re attractive?” Anton’s thin stomach curved into a soft ‘c’ as he slouched in his chair, both hands clutching a second bottle of beer. Karl had been talking about what breed of dog he wanted to get, and stopped pronouncing his words as the boy gazed at him. Karl didn’t know why Anton had exactly willed himself to come, but Karl knew why he stayed. Anton looked up to him, but Karl did little less than want Anton. It was that damn slender neck and long tangled limbs that messed with Karl’s head since he met the boy.
Karl was watching Anton move, seemingly in slow motion. He reached over with sleepy eyes and traced his thumb along the crease under Karl’s eyes. Anton saw his forehead crease up, eyebrows bending up with concern, a spark of interest.
The gap was quickly closed between the two men as Karl stood up, standing between the knees of Anton, still sitting in his chair. Karl nuzzled Anton’s neck, scruff and smooth skin crashing horribly. Anton’s lingering cologne, smelling faintly of sweet basil, stuck to his fingers as he slid them up his throat, tilting up his jaw.
Anton drew in Karl’s face, cradling it questioning as he closed his eyes and kissed Karl quickly, uncertain and looking for something that wasn’t quite there.
He tasted of the beer, cherry and wheat, as Anton gingerly explored the roof of Karl’s mouth, the contours of his cheeks. Anton had never kissed a man before, never even having thought of it until this moment, but he found the clumsiness likeable. Their teeth clashed, necks twisting to gain an advantage over each other, a male instinct to conquer.
Karl still stood over him, a heaviness and almost dampness driving Anton firmly back into the chair. Anton wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew he wanted to pull back and think about what he was doing. Karl’s fingers stretching at the neck of his t-shirt was welcome yet uncomfortable, as Anton shifted to break away from Karl. He stared into his eyes, dark with want now.
“Karl, I’m sorry,” Anton said as Karl’s face dug back into his neck, “I-I just wanted to try it…”
His large hands were pressed against Anton’s ribcage. It hurt, and Anton tried to push Karl’s hands back, but they were too strong. Anton exhaled as Karl licked his neck, eyes fluttering shut. It felt so good Anton couldn’t resist, but Karl’s urgency and roughness scared him.
“Please.” He whimpered. Karl covered Anton’s mouth again and grabbed the waistband of Anton’s pants. He pushed against Karl’s shoulders, trying to back away from him once more. The pressure on his lower stomach sent a fiery fury of nerves in his body, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body from the touch. It wasn’t the right time, but his body was reacting exactly as it should. Anton just didn’t want it to.
As the kiss turned deeper and harder, Anton’s entire body struggled from wanting to pull in and push away the man at the same time. Finally, Karl pulled away. Anton concentrated on getting a breath, a bit of freedom to squirm away from Karl. Anton stared out the window over Karl’s back, trying to talk to him. “I’m sorry. Karl, please. Just not now?”
He was too concerned with apologizing to notice Karl, and in a second’s time, he felt his pants pulled down, Karl grip his back hard, and him ramming into Anton before he could stop the man. His eyes shut, tightly, wetness brimming his eyelashes. Karl was huge and blunt and it hurt, oh it was painful and Anton’s entire body throbbed. The breath was caught in his throat, and Anton latched onto Karl’s shoulders to pull himself up for air.
His chin was caught in the notch of Karl’s neck, ribcages crushing each other from the weight. Anton desperately wanted to get Karl away, but the mass pressed between his legs was too much to ignore. Karl began to push himself in, rough and fast, Anton yelping with pain. Karl was determined to reach as far as possible, shoving and biting on Anton’s thin collarbone.
As he began to rub, back and forth, Anton’s every nerve screamed. He was no longer able to fight back, and just went limp between the wooden frame and Karl’s massive body. He thought of the time he was with a girl, a sweet little girl, and everything was smooth and soft. She had warm, fleshy skin, not the thin layer that Anton had on his lower back, being scratched and squeezed by Karl.
There was a moment when the pleasure overcame the pain, just long enough for Anton to catch Karl’s tongue in his mouth and reactively moan, against his hoping it would all stop. Karl was practically straddling Anton and the chair, rhythmically drawing in air and groaning.
As much as Anton hated Karl at that moment, he still cared for the man. He grabbed the back of Karl’s neck, drew a handful of hair, and yelled as he thrust his hips into Karl’s for the final force. Karl came.
He was broken, neglected and hurt. Anton was raw when Karl pulled out, and was heavy with his seed. He could feel each wooden prong of the chair ingrained into his spine. He dangled on the chair, his pants stretched across his thighs, sitting in a pool of sticky liquid. Karl drew Anton’s face in for a deep kiss, and Anton threw his palm onto Karl’s face. He was too weak to push him away, so he closed his eyes and pretended that there was no way that Karl had neglected him. It was all a horrible hallucination, although there was a throbbing throughout his body that left him full of grief.
Anton pretended he wasn’t crying as the tears mingled with the cold water of the shower, mockingly numbing all the places Karl’s hand fell on him, yellowish stains blotting his body as the bruises formed. He wanted to stay underneath the artificial rainfall for as long as he could, because he knew that the bed he would lay down on that night had a man waiting in it for him.