Fic: The Hollow - Part 4 (Gunn/Lindsey hustler!verse) NC17
Title: The Hollow 4
Pairing: Gunn/Lindsey
Rating: NC17
Note: So very A/U, people.
Written for: Well, it's more like "finished for" moosesal, who gives the best encouragement to finish and post dirty!bad!wrong fic of this nature.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
*
The shelter is packed to overflowing when Gunn walks in just after dawn. Anne hurries over to him, pushing her way through a crowd of young people who look anciently cynical and impossibly young all at once.
"Well?" she asks.
Gunn rubs the back of his neck. "We took out about twenty vamps. Might have missed a few, so everyone needs to be careful. Maybe hand out some stakes when they leave."
She eyes him up and down. "You look exhausted. Have you been out there all night?" When Gunn nods, she takes his arm and starts pulling him through the room. "Come on, you can crash here for a few hours before you head home."
Gunn extracts his arm from her grip and comes to a stop. "Anne, it looks like you need every bed you have. I'll be fine."
She sets her hands on her hips and arches her brows. "Most of them are going to be clearing out as soon as there's a little more sun shining out there. We've got a free bed with your name on it. Follow me."
He gives in and follows her to a free cot in a darkened room on the second floor. There are two other beds in the room, both with indistinguishable forms on them, huddled under thin blankets. The drapes are drawn on windows that face west. "Thanks, Anne."
She reaches up on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. "No, thank you. I really appreciate you and the others coming out here to take care of that nest. Especially after what happened last time you were by."
Gunn winces at the reminder. "Well, luckily no one got shot this time."
"Sleep as long as you want," she says on her way out. "You won't be disturbed."
It takes Gunn only seconds to fall asleep after he lies on the cot. His dreams are a confusing mess of images, taking him from mid-fight to mid-fuck in the blink of an eye, and he wakes with a start, his dick hard, his forehead sweaty, and his mind filled with memories of Lindsey stretched back over Gunn's lap, pushing himself past his limits to do what Gunn wanted, and getting off on it just as much as Gunn did. Shit.
Some things get stronger when they're acknowledged, and whatever this new thing is that Gunn saw in himself that night, it's raring to be set loose again.
Unfortunately, things have been so crazy this last week that Gunn hasn't been able to get over to Lindsey's end of town and let himself go. It's damn frustrating, especially because every staking, every fight, seems to rile him up a little more. And there've been a hell of a lot of stakings and fights over the last five days. He might just explode one of these nights if he can't let this out, can't vent it and make some room in himself.
Gunn's considering what his chances are of having the time and enough energy to have a go with Lindsey later on that night when he realizes he's not the only one awake in the room. He glances at the cot directly across from his own but it's empty, the covers tossed carelessly aside. He looks to his right and thinks he's got to still be dreaming, because there's no way he's seeing Lindsey here and now.
He blinks a few times and realizes that he's entirely awake and that most definitely is Lindsey sitting up in the other bed, looking a whole lot worse for wear. His face is battered and cut, one eye is swollen shut, there's a small bandage on his neck that Gunn knows means a vamp sunk fang into him, and he's got an arm wrapped around his ribs.
"What the hell happened to you?" Gunn asks, his voice raspy and thick with sleep.
"There were…things. Got me pretty good."
Gunn snorts as he sits up and swings his legs to the floor. "Those were vampires, and I can't believe you were working that stretch of Hollywood without having learned a thing or two about what goes bump in the night there."
Lindsey looks down and clenches his jaw. "We don't have shit like that to worry about where I'm from."
Gunn holds up a hand and starts ticking off what Lindsey needs to look for. "Vamps: no heartbeat, no breathing, no reflection. Other demons: weird smells, weird skin, weird body parts. Learn it, live it, live through it."
"They took my money," Lindsey grinds out, and Gunn winces because, shit. Chances are the only money Lindsey had was what was on him at the time.
"But you're alive. Three other people weren't so lucky."
Lindsey seems to be staring at him, but Gunn can't tell because the room is still kinda dim and shaded. "The kid who was in the other cot--he said you took care of those things."
Gunn shrugs. "Me and some friends, yeah."
Gunn gets to his feet and goes for the light switch by the door. When he turns the overhead light on, Lindsey flinches and squints against the sudden brightness. The bruising on Lindsey's face is livid and still in that bright stage; all purples and blues that haven't yet started to yellow. Gunn's stomach twists around something dark and dense, something that feels like his dreams.
He doesn't move from the light switch, and Lindsey starts to frown but never makes it all the way, because Gunn can feel that look on his face--the one that matches the thing in his stomach, the feeling in his dreams--and Lindsey is seeing it.
"You're out of your mind," Lindsey growls. He waves at his busted ribs. "I can't fucking breathe."
Gunn gives him a one-shouldered shrug and says, in a voice smooth as silk, "Up to you" and then licks his own lips.
"I don't do freebies, man."
"No one asked you to." Gunn pauses, watches the wariness come to Lindsey's face, and pounces. "Might even be a medical bonus in it for you."
And Gunn's not playing fair, he knows that. Lindsey's gonna be desperate for a while to recoup what was stolen from him last night, and Gunn's taking advantage of that. It doesn't even bother him, not if it means he can get what he wants out of this deal. Not if those dreams can get fed, or whatever, and leave him alone.
Lindsey's hands clench into fists and his words are torn from a busted up mouth that's curled into a snarl. "There will be a bonus. No maybe about it."
Gunn nods, then pokes his head out the door. He flags down one of the shelter regulars and sends her off with a message for Anne that Gunn not be disturbed for another hour. Then he closes the door and clicks the lock in place. The sound is as dark and dense as the thing in Gunn's stomach, and he's shivering as he turns on his heel and faces Lindsey again.
Lindsey's hand is stretched out, palm up, and Gunn rolls his eyes and digs into his back pocket for his wallet. He's had the cash ready and waiting for Lindsey for days now, on the off-chance he'd get to do exactly this. He adds a few additional bills to the ones that he set aside, then hands it all to Lindsey. This time, Gunn sees the money get tucked into Lindsey's front pocket.
"How do you want me?" Lindsey asks, sounding like some bored but forcibly courteous cashier.
"Stand up." When Lindsey gets to his feet with flinches and winces and stiff movements, Gunn realizes his own cock has been hard since he woke up from those dreams and it's throbbing something fierce now.
Gunn walks over to him, gaze drifting across Lindsey's battered face, and stops just a few inches away. His hand comes up and his fingers follow the same path along Lindsey's face that his eyes did. Over the bruises, along the cuts, around the swollen eye, then down to the gauze on Lindsey's neck.
Little shivers wrack Lindsey's body and Gunn knows it's not because of pain; Gunn's touches are ghost-like, barely there. Lindsey looks up, blatant wariness flickering in and out of his eyes. Gunn's hand freezes on the gauze, and he's achingly aware of how vulnerable Lindsey is right at this moment, how wrong it is to go ahead and do this.
He drops his hand and opens his mouth, ready to tell Lindsey to keep the money, have a nice life, get a stake and learn how to use it, but Lindsey makes a noise of disgust and shifts his hips. Gunn looks down and he can see the outline of Lindsey's hard cock through Lindsey's jeans.
Gunn's nostrils flare as he exhales heavily. Okay. Right. He closes his eyes briefly and cracks his neck. When he opens them again, Lindsey stares at him for a long moment before twisting his split lips in approval.
"Anne give you another set of clothes?" Gunn asks.
Lindsey looks down at his blood stained t-shirt and jeans, then points at the foot of the cot he was sleeping on. "Over there."
Gunn nods then brings his hands to the collar of Lindsey's t-shirt. He gathers the material into his fists and Lindsey tenses in anticipation, wiry body tightening. The material is old and thin, and it gives way easily under Gunn's hands, like it's meant to be torn and has just been waiting for someone to do it. He tears it down the middle and the ends of material fall to the side, showing off the bandages around Lindsey's waist and the dark bruises that extend high up on his chest.
"Jesus," Gunn breathes, the sound so low that he doesn't think Lindsey can actually hear it. He fumbles one hand to his own jeans, down low on his zipper, and desperately grabs at the base of his cock to keep from losing it right here and right now.
"You're a nasty bastard, aren't you?" Lindsey laughs, the sound hitching in pain and arousal.
Gunn ignores his words and stops him when he tries to shrug the remains of the t-shirt off. "Leave it."
The fluorescent lights from above bleach the tan from Lindsey's skin, bathe it in sickly shades of blue and Gunn's hands shake when he reaches for Lindsey's hips, but they're firm when they latch on and turn Lindsey around and bring him back against Gunn's chest.
Lindsey starts grinding back against Gunn's cock, and Gunn pinches his thigh. "Still. Stay still."
The button fly of Lindsey's jeans peels open like something soft and too ripe, and Gunn parts the gaping material with careful hands that don't so much as brush against the rock hard dick that springs free. Gunn folds the material back and pulls the jeans down to just under Lindsey's ass, one hand slipping into Lindsey's left pocket for a condom and a packet of lube.
"Get on your knees on the cot," Gunn says right into Lindsey's ear. "Hold onto the railing at the head of it."
Lindsey shivers and takes one shuffling step forward to the cot, then sinks onto it on his knees. He clambers across the length of a bed with his jeans trapped around his thighs and manages to make it look hot as fuck when it should just be awkward and clumsy. His hands wrap around the rickety metal frame and he arches his back, sticks his ass out, and it's obscene, the sight of Lindsey's bare ass next to his clothed back and thighs.
Gunn doesn't undo his belt or open the button of his own jeans, just tugs the zipper down, reaches in past his boxers to pull his cock out, and slides the condom on. The lube job is half-assed because Lindsey turns his head, looks at Gunn over his shoulder with eyes full of challenges and dares that Gunn has to respond to right the fuck now--anything less, anything not immediate, would mean a loss for Gunn and a win for Lindsey.
Gunn climbs onto the bed right behind Lindsey, straddling the back of Lindsey's calves and cupping Lindsey's ass cheeks in his palms to spread them. "Brace yourself," Gunn warns him, then slams inside, all the way, with one thrust.
And, Christ, Gunn doesn't think he'll ever get over just how open Lindsey is for this. He remembers fumbling with other guys back in the day, remembers how tight and resistant they were, and he knows what it means that Lindsey can take him like this.
Lindsey makes a choked noise and tenses; over his shoulder Gunn can see his arms shaking. Gunn doesn't wait, doesn't give him even a second to adjust, just pulls out and slams forward again. It's a slow, hard thrust that makes his zipper dig into Lindsey's skin and leaves an imprint that Gunn sees when he pulls back yet again.
On the fourth thrust Lindsey's head falls forward, hangs down, and his hair slithers to either side and bares the nape of his neck. Gunn's next thrusts are harder and deeper, but just as slow, just as controlled. Lindsey starts making little noises at the back of his throat, sounds of frustration, because Gunn's not hitting his prostate, isn't letting Lindsey move or touch himself, isn't giving Lindsey words to get him where he needs to go.
Gunn is just fucking Lindsey's ass, taking and using, and the idea of that doesn't make Gunn's blood boil, doesn't send him out of control. Instead it makes him slide in again and go still when he's buried as deep as he can get in Lindsey's ass. Lindsey's muscles start clenching and releasing around him, trying to get him to move again, but Gunn stays that way for a long time, his cock getting milked by Lindsey. After a while he pulls out so slowly that his muscles jerk and twitch, and keeps going until only the head of his cock is in Lindsey. He freezes again, holds himself still until he can feel Lindsey relax, like h's given up on waiting for it, and that's when Gunn shoves forward so hard that Lindsey's knees leave the bed and he has to hold himself up by way of his grip on the railing.
It's got to hurt. No question about that. But Lindsey just gasps, arches back, holds himself up while Gunn keeps him poised off the mattress, and the already familiar shakes and shudders of Lindsey's body have Gunn's balls tightening.
He brings his mouth to Lindsey's ear, and Lindsey makes a wordless begging sound.
"Oh, no," Gunn denies. "Not making you come yet." He shoves forward, even though there's nowhere left to go, and Lindsey groans. "Feel like I could go for hours in this sweet slut ass of yours." He moves a hand from Lindsey's hip and slaps Lindsey's ass. His other hand stays where it is, digs into Lindsey's flesh, hard and biting.
"You goddamn son of a fucking bitch!" Lindsey hisses furiously, arching his neck back and tilting his head to the side, offering his ear for more of Gunn's words.
Gunn switches hands, smacks Lindsey's other cheek, and this time he feels Lindsey open up and take his dick in just that much more.
"Yeah," Gunn whispergrowls. "Got your number. Had it from the start, you little bitch."
"Fuck you. Fuck you to hell. You dirty bastard."
"One of these days--" Gunn starts, then loses himself in Lindsey's tight ass, in the corkscrew motions he's swiveling his hips in without ever unseating himself. "One day, I'm gonna fuck you face to face. Make you lay on your back and spread your legs for me. Make you look up at me while I fuck you hard and long."
Lindsey struggles to pull away from Gunn, off of Gunn's dick, another hissed string of curses being pushed out of his mouth.
"You really want me to slide my cock out of your greedy little ass?" Gunn asks. "Huh?"
"Yes!"
"You say that, but you're gripping it so damn hard that I don't know if I can. Let's find out."
Lindsey goes still and his voice rings out into the room, clear and sharp and stone cold sober. "I fucking hate you." Then he lets his weight fall back more than it already is, so that he's damn well sitting in Gunn's lap, on Gunn's dick.
"And now you want me to stay," Gunn sighs impatiently, his hands digging into Lindsey's hips again. "What the hell wouldn't you put up with to have that ass of yours filled?"
Gunn realizes that there hasn't been much actual fucking going on, despite the fact that he's balls deep in Lindsey's ass, and has been for a while. It's like a flash in his head, then, how this isn't about fucking, not really, but about something else.
He wonders how long he can stay where he is, not moving, and still remain hard. Wonders if the both of them can get off just from this. Lindsey definitely can; it takes Gunn's words to get Lindsey to shoot. But can Gunn do that? Can he just get off with this alone--no, not alone. With this and the words he gives Lindsey and the way those words make Lindsey go off like a goddamn rocket?
"Oh, God," Gunn gasps, his eyes going wide and his heart slamming against his ribcage, because it's too much...too much of...something.
His head falls forward, forehead pressing against Lindsey's temple, and the movement brings his eyes to Lindsey's profile. There's blood from Lindsey's split lips trailing down his chin, and his teeth are digging into the cut, jaw shifting as he works the cut wider and deeper.
Gunn snaps his hips back, then forward again, hard and jarring, and he wraps one arm around Lindsey's chest like a steel band, high above his busted ribs. The hand still on Lindsey's hip pulls him in, bows his back, keeps him up on the points of his knees, holds them both in this position.
"Want to have your ass whenever I want," Gunn babbles, not sure what these words are, or where they're coming from, just that they're his, that they're true, even though he'll deny them, deny they ever even came to his mind. "Want to walk into a room and just find you with your ass in the air, waiting for me to fuck it. Have your mouth watering to suck my cock."
Lindsey is choking as he moves the best he can, as he fucks himself onto Gunn's cock as much as he can.
"Want to jerk off on you, all over you, come on your face, on your ass, on your cock. Want you to beg me for everything."
Lindsey tightens convulsively as he comes, but Gunn isn't done. Not yet, not now.
"Want to hurt you, oh, fucking hell, I want to hurt you. Make you feel me."
There are more words, but Gunn can't listen to himself anymore, even though he won't even try to make himself stop. Only his last words, long minutes later, come through loud and clear.
"Want to own your ass," he chokes out, and then he's biting Lindsey's shoulder to stifle his scream as he comes so hard that his back damn near seizes up. He unlocks his jaw, lets go of Lindsey's t-shirt and flesh, and slumps forward.
Lindsey shoves him back, pushes him away with frantic motions and elbows aimed at his ribs, and Gunn falls onto the bed. Lindsey stands, teetering on the thin mattress as he yanks his pants up and buttons them with shaking hands. His eyes are wide and terrified, and he stares down at Gunn like he's some deified monster.
"You--" Lindsey says, his voice strangled and low and breaking. He takes a breath, tries again, but even that one word won't come this time, and Gunn watches that lush mouth, bloodied and swollen, move soundlessly.
Gunn thinks that he should apologize, but he won't because he's not sorry. Not at all. And maybe Lindsey sees that. Or maybe Lindsey sees something else. Either way, Lindsey steps off the bed, scoops up his change of clothes, and heads for the door. He looks back five times on his way out of the room; Gunn doesn't look away until he's gone.
.End
Part 5
Series Listing in Memories here.
Pairing: Gunn/Lindsey
Rating: NC17
Note: So very A/U, people.
Written for: Well, it's more like "finished for" moosesal, who gives the best encouragement to finish and post dirty!bad!wrong fic of this nature.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
*
The shelter is packed to overflowing when Gunn walks in just after dawn. Anne hurries over to him, pushing her way through a crowd of young people who look anciently cynical and impossibly young all at once.
"Well?" she asks.
Gunn rubs the back of his neck. "We took out about twenty vamps. Might have missed a few, so everyone needs to be careful. Maybe hand out some stakes when they leave."
She eyes him up and down. "You look exhausted. Have you been out there all night?" When Gunn nods, she takes his arm and starts pulling him through the room. "Come on, you can crash here for a few hours before you head home."
Gunn extracts his arm from her grip and comes to a stop. "Anne, it looks like you need every bed you have. I'll be fine."
She sets her hands on her hips and arches her brows. "Most of them are going to be clearing out as soon as there's a little more sun shining out there. We've got a free bed with your name on it. Follow me."
He gives in and follows her to a free cot in a darkened room on the second floor. There are two other beds in the room, both with indistinguishable forms on them, huddled under thin blankets. The drapes are drawn on windows that face west. "Thanks, Anne."
She reaches up on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. "No, thank you. I really appreciate you and the others coming out here to take care of that nest. Especially after what happened last time you were by."
Gunn winces at the reminder. "Well, luckily no one got shot this time."
"Sleep as long as you want," she says on her way out. "You won't be disturbed."
It takes Gunn only seconds to fall asleep after he lies on the cot. His dreams are a confusing mess of images, taking him from mid-fight to mid-fuck in the blink of an eye, and he wakes with a start, his dick hard, his forehead sweaty, and his mind filled with memories of Lindsey stretched back over Gunn's lap, pushing himself past his limits to do what Gunn wanted, and getting off on it just as much as Gunn did. Shit.
Some things get stronger when they're acknowledged, and whatever this new thing is that Gunn saw in himself that night, it's raring to be set loose again.
Unfortunately, things have been so crazy this last week that Gunn hasn't been able to get over to Lindsey's end of town and let himself go. It's damn frustrating, especially because every staking, every fight, seems to rile him up a little more. And there've been a hell of a lot of stakings and fights over the last five days. He might just explode one of these nights if he can't let this out, can't vent it and make some room in himself.
Gunn's considering what his chances are of having the time and enough energy to have a go with Lindsey later on that night when he realizes he's not the only one awake in the room. He glances at the cot directly across from his own but it's empty, the covers tossed carelessly aside. He looks to his right and thinks he's got to still be dreaming, because there's no way he's seeing Lindsey here and now.
He blinks a few times and realizes that he's entirely awake and that most definitely is Lindsey sitting up in the other bed, looking a whole lot worse for wear. His face is battered and cut, one eye is swollen shut, there's a small bandage on his neck that Gunn knows means a vamp sunk fang into him, and he's got an arm wrapped around his ribs.
"What the hell happened to you?" Gunn asks, his voice raspy and thick with sleep.
"There were…things. Got me pretty good."
Gunn snorts as he sits up and swings his legs to the floor. "Those were vampires, and I can't believe you were working that stretch of Hollywood without having learned a thing or two about what goes bump in the night there."
Lindsey looks down and clenches his jaw. "We don't have shit like that to worry about where I'm from."
Gunn holds up a hand and starts ticking off what Lindsey needs to look for. "Vamps: no heartbeat, no breathing, no reflection. Other demons: weird smells, weird skin, weird body parts. Learn it, live it, live through it."
"They took my money," Lindsey grinds out, and Gunn winces because, shit. Chances are the only money Lindsey had was what was on him at the time.
"But you're alive. Three other people weren't so lucky."
Lindsey seems to be staring at him, but Gunn can't tell because the room is still kinda dim and shaded. "The kid who was in the other cot--he said you took care of those things."
Gunn shrugs. "Me and some friends, yeah."
Gunn gets to his feet and goes for the light switch by the door. When he turns the overhead light on, Lindsey flinches and squints against the sudden brightness. The bruising on Lindsey's face is livid and still in that bright stage; all purples and blues that haven't yet started to yellow. Gunn's stomach twists around something dark and dense, something that feels like his dreams.
He doesn't move from the light switch, and Lindsey starts to frown but never makes it all the way, because Gunn can feel that look on his face--the one that matches the thing in his stomach, the feeling in his dreams--and Lindsey is seeing it.
"You're out of your mind," Lindsey growls. He waves at his busted ribs. "I can't fucking breathe."
Gunn gives him a one-shouldered shrug and says, in a voice smooth as silk, "Up to you" and then licks his own lips.
"I don't do freebies, man."
"No one asked you to." Gunn pauses, watches the wariness come to Lindsey's face, and pounces. "Might even be a medical bonus in it for you."
And Gunn's not playing fair, he knows that. Lindsey's gonna be desperate for a while to recoup what was stolen from him last night, and Gunn's taking advantage of that. It doesn't even bother him, not if it means he can get what he wants out of this deal. Not if those dreams can get fed, or whatever, and leave him alone.
Lindsey's hands clench into fists and his words are torn from a busted up mouth that's curled into a snarl. "There will be a bonus. No maybe about it."
Gunn nods, then pokes his head out the door. He flags down one of the shelter regulars and sends her off with a message for Anne that Gunn not be disturbed for another hour. Then he closes the door and clicks the lock in place. The sound is as dark and dense as the thing in Gunn's stomach, and he's shivering as he turns on his heel and faces Lindsey again.
Lindsey's hand is stretched out, palm up, and Gunn rolls his eyes and digs into his back pocket for his wallet. He's had the cash ready and waiting for Lindsey for days now, on the off-chance he'd get to do exactly this. He adds a few additional bills to the ones that he set aside, then hands it all to Lindsey. This time, Gunn sees the money get tucked into Lindsey's front pocket.
"How do you want me?" Lindsey asks, sounding like some bored but forcibly courteous cashier.
"Stand up." When Lindsey gets to his feet with flinches and winces and stiff movements, Gunn realizes his own cock has been hard since he woke up from those dreams and it's throbbing something fierce now.
Gunn walks over to him, gaze drifting across Lindsey's battered face, and stops just a few inches away. His hand comes up and his fingers follow the same path along Lindsey's face that his eyes did. Over the bruises, along the cuts, around the swollen eye, then down to the gauze on Lindsey's neck.
Little shivers wrack Lindsey's body and Gunn knows it's not because of pain; Gunn's touches are ghost-like, barely there. Lindsey looks up, blatant wariness flickering in and out of his eyes. Gunn's hand freezes on the gauze, and he's achingly aware of how vulnerable Lindsey is right at this moment, how wrong it is to go ahead and do this.
He drops his hand and opens his mouth, ready to tell Lindsey to keep the money, have a nice life, get a stake and learn how to use it, but Lindsey makes a noise of disgust and shifts his hips. Gunn looks down and he can see the outline of Lindsey's hard cock through Lindsey's jeans.
Gunn's nostrils flare as he exhales heavily. Okay. Right. He closes his eyes briefly and cracks his neck. When he opens them again, Lindsey stares at him for a long moment before twisting his split lips in approval.
"Anne give you another set of clothes?" Gunn asks.
Lindsey looks down at his blood stained t-shirt and jeans, then points at the foot of the cot he was sleeping on. "Over there."
Gunn nods then brings his hands to the collar of Lindsey's t-shirt. He gathers the material into his fists and Lindsey tenses in anticipation, wiry body tightening. The material is old and thin, and it gives way easily under Gunn's hands, like it's meant to be torn and has just been waiting for someone to do it. He tears it down the middle and the ends of material fall to the side, showing off the bandages around Lindsey's waist and the dark bruises that extend high up on his chest.
"Jesus," Gunn breathes, the sound so low that he doesn't think Lindsey can actually hear it. He fumbles one hand to his own jeans, down low on his zipper, and desperately grabs at the base of his cock to keep from losing it right here and right now.
"You're a nasty bastard, aren't you?" Lindsey laughs, the sound hitching in pain and arousal.
Gunn ignores his words and stops him when he tries to shrug the remains of the t-shirt off. "Leave it."
The fluorescent lights from above bleach the tan from Lindsey's skin, bathe it in sickly shades of blue and Gunn's hands shake when he reaches for Lindsey's hips, but they're firm when they latch on and turn Lindsey around and bring him back against Gunn's chest.
Lindsey starts grinding back against Gunn's cock, and Gunn pinches his thigh. "Still. Stay still."
The button fly of Lindsey's jeans peels open like something soft and too ripe, and Gunn parts the gaping material with careful hands that don't so much as brush against the rock hard dick that springs free. Gunn folds the material back and pulls the jeans down to just under Lindsey's ass, one hand slipping into Lindsey's left pocket for a condom and a packet of lube.
"Get on your knees on the cot," Gunn says right into Lindsey's ear. "Hold onto the railing at the head of it."
Lindsey shivers and takes one shuffling step forward to the cot, then sinks onto it on his knees. He clambers across the length of a bed with his jeans trapped around his thighs and manages to make it look hot as fuck when it should just be awkward and clumsy. His hands wrap around the rickety metal frame and he arches his back, sticks his ass out, and it's obscene, the sight of Lindsey's bare ass next to his clothed back and thighs.
Gunn doesn't undo his belt or open the button of his own jeans, just tugs the zipper down, reaches in past his boxers to pull his cock out, and slides the condom on. The lube job is half-assed because Lindsey turns his head, looks at Gunn over his shoulder with eyes full of challenges and dares that Gunn has to respond to right the fuck now--anything less, anything not immediate, would mean a loss for Gunn and a win for Lindsey.
Gunn climbs onto the bed right behind Lindsey, straddling the back of Lindsey's calves and cupping Lindsey's ass cheeks in his palms to spread them. "Brace yourself," Gunn warns him, then slams inside, all the way, with one thrust.
And, Christ, Gunn doesn't think he'll ever get over just how open Lindsey is for this. He remembers fumbling with other guys back in the day, remembers how tight and resistant they were, and he knows what it means that Lindsey can take him like this.
Lindsey makes a choked noise and tenses; over his shoulder Gunn can see his arms shaking. Gunn doesn't wait, doesn't give him even a second to adjust, just pulls out and slams forward again. It's a slow, hard thrust that makes his zipper dig into Lindsey's skin and leaves an imprint that Gunn sees when he pulls back yet again.
On the fourth thrust Lindsey's head falls forward, hangs down, and his hair slithers to either side and bares the nape of his neck. Gunn's next thrusts are harder and deeper, but just as slow, just as controlled. Lindsey starts making little noises at the back of his throat, sounds of frustration, because Gunn's not hitting his prostate, isn't letting Lindsey move or touch himself, isn't giving Lindsey words to get him where he needs to go.
Gunn is just fucking Lindsey's ass, taking and using, and the idea of that doesn't make Gunn's blood boil, doesn't send him out of control. Instead it makes him slide in again and go still when he's buried as deep as he can get in Lindsey's ass. Lindsey's muscles start clenching and releasing around him, trying to get him to move again, but Gunn stays that way for a long time, his cock getting milked by Lindsey. After a while he pulls out so slowly that his muscles jerk and twitch, and keeps going until only the head of his cock is in Lindsey. He freezes again, holds himself still until he can feel Lindsey relax, like h's given up on waiting for it, and that's when Gunn shoves forward so hard that Lindsey's knees leave the bed and he has to hold himself up by way of his grip on the railing.
It's got to hurt. No question about that. But Lindsey just gasps, arches back, holds himself up while Gunn keeps him poised off the mattress, and the already familiar shakes and shudders of Lindsey's body have Gunn's balls tightening.
He brings his mouth to Lindsey's ear, and Lindsey makes a wordless begging sound.
"Oh, no," Gunn denies. "Not making you come yet." He shoves forward, even though there's nowhere left to go, and Lindsey groans. "Feel like I could go for hours in this sweet slut ass of yours." He moves a hand from Lindsey's hip and slaps Lindsey's ass. His other hand stays where it is, digs into Lindsey's flesh, hard and biting.
"You goddamn son of a fucking bitch!" Lindsey hisses furiously, arching his neck back and tilting his head to the side, offering his ear for more of Gunn's words.
Gunn switches hands, smacks Lindsey's other cheek, and this time he feels Lindsey open up and take his dick in just that much more.
"Yeah," Gunn whispergrowls. "Got your number. Had it from the start, you little bitch."
"Fuck you. Fuck you to hell. You dirty bastard."
"One of these days--" Gunn starts, then loses himself in Lindsey's tight ass, in the corkscrew motions he's swiveling his hips in without ever unseating himself. "One day, I'm gonna fuck you face to face. Make you lay on your back and spread your legs for me. Make you look up at me while I fuck you hard and long."
Lindsey struggles to pull away from Gunn, off of Gunn's dick, another hissed string of curses being pushed out of his mouth.
"You really want me to slide my cock out of your greedy little ass?" Gunn asks. "Huh?"
"Yes!"
"You say that, but you're gripping it so damn hard that I don't know if I can. Let's find out."
Lindsey goes still and his voice rings out into the room, clear and sharp and stone cold sober. "I fucking hate you." Then he lets his weight fall back more than it already is, so that he's damn well sitting in Gunn's lap, on Gunn's dick.
"And now you want me to stay," Gunn sighs impatiently, his hands digging into Lindsey's hips again. "What the hell wouldn't you put up with to have that ass of yours filled?"
Gunn realizes that there hasn't been much actual fucking going on, despite the fact that he's balls deep in Lindsey's ass, and has been for a while. It's like a flash in his head, then, how this isn't about fucking, not really, but about something else.
He wonders how long he can stay where he is, not moving, and still remain hard. Wonders if the both of them can get off just from this. Lindsey definitely can; it takes Gunn's words to get Lindsey to shoot. But can Gunn do that? Can he just get off with this alone--no, not alone. With this and the words he gives Lindsey and the way those words make Lindsey go off like a goddamn rocket?
"Oh, God," Gunn gasps, his eyes going wide and his heart slamming against his ribcage, because it's too much...too much of...something.
His head falls forward, forehead pressing against Lindsey's temple, and the movement brings his eyes to Lindsey's profile. There's blood from Lindsey's split lips trailing down his chin, and his teeth are digging into the cut, jaw shifting as he works the cut wider and deeper.
Gunn snaps his hips back, then forward again, hard and jarring, and he wraps one arm around Lindsey's chest like a steel band, high above his busted ribs. The hand still on Lindsey's hip pulls him in, bows his back, keeps him up on the points of his knees, holds them both in this position.
"Want to have your ass whenever I want," Gunn babbles, not sure what these words are, or where they're coming from, just that they're his, that they're true, even though he'll deny them, deny they ever even came to his mind. "Want to walk into a room and just find you with your ass in the air, waiting for me to fuck it. Have your mouth watering to suck my cock."
Lindsey is choking as he moves the best he can, as he fucks himself onto Gunn's cock as much as he can.
"Want to jerk off on you, all over you, come on your face, on your ass, on your cock. Want you to beg me for everything."
Lindsey tightens convulsively as he comes, but Gunn isn't done. Not yet, not now.
"Want to hurt you, oh, fucking hell, I want to hurt you. Make you feel me."
There are more words, but Gunn can't listen to himself anymore, even though he won't even try to make himself stop. Only his last words, long minutes later, come through loud and clear.
"Want to own your ass," he chokes out, and then he's biting Lindsey's shoulder to stifle his scream as he comes so hard that his back damn near seizes up. He unlocks his jaw, lets go of Lindsey's t-shirt and flesh, and slumps forward.
Lindsey shoves him back, pushes him away with frantic motions and elbows aimed at his ribs, and Gunn falls onto the bed. Lindsey stands, teetering on the thin mattress as he yanks his pants up and buttons them with shaking hands. His eyes are wide and terrified, and he stares down at Gunn like he's some deified monster.
"You--" Lindsey says, his voice strangled and low and breaking. He takes a breath, tries again, but even that one word won't come this time, and Gunn watches that lush mouth, bloodied and swollen, move soundlessly.
Gunn thinks that he should apologize, but he won't because he's not sorry. Not at all. And maybe Lindsey sees that. Or maybe Lindsey sees something else. Either way, Lindsey steps off the bed, scoops up his change of clothes, and heads for the door. He looks back five times on his way out of the room; Gunn doesn't look away until he's gone.
.End
Part 5
Series Listing in Memories here.