Californication story: Fuck and Die
Title: Fuck and Die
Characters/Pairing: Hank Moody/Lew Ashby
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: character death, dubious consent (implied), wall-to-wall cursing
Prompt: Hank/Lew Ashby, partytime!, noncon or dubcon (at dark_fest LJ comm)
Summary: Lew Ashby's AU swan song
Notes: for my dear deadfuck (you know who you are) and anybody else who loves Hank/Lew and can't damn well find them on the web
Hank Moody didn’t fuck guys, and guys didn’t fuck him. Not that he didn’t like guys. Just not that way. He liked Ashby, was pretty sure he loved him in an unhealthy suicide pact kind of way. Ashby was intelligent and talented, so wasted, led by his dick and his drugs and his long lost love, all of it excuses, maybe, to live the way he did-but who was Hank to judge? He got where Ashby was coming from, he really did, enough so that the book wasn’t going to be the chore he thought it would be. Not at all.
Hank loved women. He loved talking to them, understood the way they thought. He just couldn’t live up to what they wanted. He couldn’t live up to what he wanted for himself, either. He was a proud, cock upstanding member of the fuck yourself up and die club with Ashby right there beside him, trying to take the crown away.
But women: he loved to fuck them and be fucked by them, loved their breasts bobbing in his face when they moved, sweet soft skin. He loved to sink inside them, to feel them spasm around him and grip him tight. He loved spreading their legs wide and tasting them, smelling their musk, getting wet from nose to chin, hearing their moans. He loved lapping at their clits until they screamed, sucking them and then burrowing inside, pointing his tongue and fucking them with it. Loved to make them come, screaming and pulling his hair while they did. Loved it all.
He loved Karen more than all of them, though it wasn’t like he’d ever get to stay with her. But at least the world was full of women.
And yet, incredibly, here he was with Ashby’s dick up his ass.
“Remember the one woman/two cock showdown you refused me on? With uh-shit, what’s her name-fuck it, it isn’t important. The point is the cock-off was bullshit. I had ulterior motive. Wanted to see your dick, man,” Ashby said. “Make sure you measure up, you know?”
Hank raised a brow. “You’re a cock snob? Huh.” He drove his hips up.
Ashby grunted, sinking further inside Hank’s ass. “But you just couldn’t go there, could you?”
“To think I was played,” Hank said dryly. “And now, having once had a taste of the beast, I’ll never be able to turn back. Is that the idea?”
Ashby dug his feet into the mattress and shoved his dick in deep in response. Hank groaned, his cock spurting a little precome onto his stomach.
“Sarcasm is the sign of a weak intellect or some such bullshit, and if you think you can shrivel my manhood with mere words you are talking to the wrong cock,” Ashby panted. He brushed his lips over Hank’s.
Hank turned away. “Woah, cowboy. I did not agree to kiss. That’s like what, the Final Frontier or something.”
“You didn’t say I could fuck you either, but-” Ashby pointed out, and Hank finished with him, “-here we are.”
“The notches on your bedpost keep growing, don’t they?” added Hank.
Ashby grabbed Hank’s dick and squeezed, shooting him a scornful look. Hank moaned, twisted in his grip. “Writers and the shit they think about. You think I bother to keep count?” He put a finger to Hank’s stomach and swirled it in the impressive amount of precome there, then brought it to his mouth and licked it off his finger. He closed his eyes and smiled, then rolled Hank higher up on his back and fucked into him three times quick, in and out.
Hank groaned, loud and long, squeezing his hands tight around his thighs. He raised his head and looked at Ashby’s dick plunging inside him. “Jesus.”
“What?” Ashby slowed.
“Nothing.” Hank dropped his head back onto the mattress, but Ashby was still looking at him. “So…so everything going okay down there?”
Ashby raised an eyebrow at him and stopped moving. “Can’t you tell?”
Hank squinted, closed one eye shut and peered sheepishly up at Ashby with the other. He shrugged. “I guess. Feels good.”
“Hell yeah, it feels good.” Ashby looked at Hank speculatively. “Shit. You’re an ass virgin, aren’t you? Man, I thought those were extinct.”
Hank tried to look scornful. “You think I’m a virgin.”
Ashby ignored him. “So some little chick never pegged your ass?”
Hank put an arm over his face. “No,” he muttered into his arm.
Ashby pried his arm away. He studied Hank a moment. “Oh, okay. I get it.” He peered exaggeratedly at Hank’s ass and laughed when Hank gave him an exasperated look. “You’re fine, Prudence. Clean as a whistle. Good enough to eat.” He winked.
Hank flushed but tried to rally as a matter of pride. “The No Rimming sign’s already posted. Be happy your dick was in before the yellow flag went up or nothing would have hit this beach.”
Ashby started moving again. “I’ll go slow. Been a long time since I popped cherry.”
“You keep up this pace and I’m going back to sleep. Where, I may add, I was perfectly happy without a cock up my ass,” Hank said.
Ashby pulled nearly all the way out and then rolled his hips, sinking back in slow and easy. Again, a little faster. “Yeah? I don’t think so.” He pushed in hard, spine arching back, knees digging into the bed.
“Oh, fuck, that’s-yeah. More. Like that.” Hank groaned, writhing.
“Like that?”
“Oh fuck yeah.” Hank slammed his head down on the mattress, gasping. “Should I call you Lew now you’re in balls deep? Ashby feels unnecessarily formal, don’t you think?”
Ashby smiled, feral grin that said he was pleased with himself and the world, then gave up and laughed outright, head thrown back. “You’re fucking with my rhythm, man,” he bitched, then looked down at Hank, still grinning. He fucked in harder, each time sliding Hank further up the mattress.
Hank closed his eyes, wished like hell they’d put a new sheet on after dragging the other one off (because who the hell knew who else had been fucked on that sheet-and on this mattress, come to think of it). He felt the drag of cock inside him, opening him up, and then the bastard hit his prostate, bump, slide, and Hank propped himself on the bed with his elbows and yelled up at the ceiling, oh fuck and Jesus.
Ashby grinned again. “Sweet spot,” he crooned, looked smug and did it again. Hank gave a full-out roar this time, white sparks disintegrating before his eyes. His cock bobbed against his stomach, begging, and Ashby jerked him once, twice, until Hank went off like a rocket in the deep blue yonder.
“You are mine, motherfucker,” Ashby said, beaming like nothing would ever swipe that motherfucking grin off his face. Hank winked at him tiredly and gave him a free bump and grind. “Fucking fuck,” Ashby groaned, hips thrusting. Hank grabbed at the mattress, trying to keep his head from banging into the headboard.
“Shit motherfucker hot damn you’ve got an ass on you,” Ashby said, coming hard, back bowed and rammed in deep. Hank nodded in agreement and laced his hands behind his head after Ashby grew still. He closed his eyes.
Instead of relaxing, Ashby’s body grew stiff. Hank felt the tension against his skin like a bowstring pulled tight. He opened his eyes.
Ashby grimaced. “Damn. Hank, I think-” His face purpled and suddenly he was gasping, veins standing out in his throat. “Hey,” he whispered raggedly, “you gonna put this in the book?”
“Shit, what’s wrong, what is it?” Hank said, panicked. He put a hand on Ashby’s chest. His eyes widened. Ashby’s heart was trip-hammering. “No, no no no.”
“Just don’t tell ’em I went out on blow, okay?” Ashby whispered. “Fuckers’ll expect that.”
“You’re not dying on me, you’re not, hear me? I’ll get help.”
“Tell ’em I died by your dick,” Ashby gasped out and fell heavily on top of Hank, eyes rolling up into his head. The whites snapped with red.
“Shit, no, no, Ashby,” Hank said, grabbing his face and shaking it. “Breathe, Jesus. Hey, hey, Lew,” Hank said. His fingers stroked Ashby’s cheeks. “Wake up,” he whispered. “C’mon, c’mon back. Please? I lied about the kissing. See?” He kissed him. “Rimming too. Now get up.”
Ashby didn’t move. His body was limp.
“Fuck, why’d you have to do this?” Hank shouted at the ceiling. The ceiling stayed quiet. So did the house.
After a while, Hank turned his forehead to Ashby’s and rested it there. “Death by ass, huh? If that’s what you want, I’ll tell 'em. Jagger will shit green envy.” Ashby didn’t answer.
Hank waited a little longer just in case Ashby breathed. He didn’t.
Characters/Pairing: Hank Moody/Lew Ashby
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: character death, dubious consent (implied), wall-to-wall cursing
Prompt: Hank/Lew Ashby, partytime!, noncon or dubcon (at dark_fest LJ comm)
Summary: Lew Ashby's AU swan song
Notes: for my dear deadfuck (you know who you are) and anybody else who loves Hank/Lew and can't damn well find them on the web
Hank Moody didn’t fuck guys, and guys didn’t fuck him. Not that he didn’t like guys. Just not that way. He liked Ashby, was pretty sure he loved him in an unhealthy suicide pact kind of way. Ashby was intelligent and talented, so wasted, led by his dick and his drugs and his long lost love, all of it excuses, maybe, to live the way he did-but who was Hank to judge? He got where Ashby was coming from, he really did, enough so that the book wasn’t going to be the chore he thought it would be. Not at all.
Hank loved women. He loved talking to them, understood the way they thought. He just couldn’t live up to what they wanted. He couldn’t live up to what he wanted for himself, either. He was a proud, cock upstanding member of the fuck yourself up and die club with Ashby right there beside him, trying to take the crown away.
But women: he loved to fuck them and be fucked by them, loved their breasts bobbing in his face when they moved, sweet soft skin. He loved to sink inside them, to feel them spasm around him and grip him tight. He loved spreading their legs wide and tasting them, smelling their musk, getting wet from nose to chin, hearing their moans. He loved lapping at their clits until they screamed, sucking them and then burrowing inside, pointing his tongue and fucking them with it. Loved to make them come, screaming and pulling his hair while they did. Loved it all.
He loved Karen more than all of them, though it wasn’t like he’d ever get to stay with her. But at least the world was full of women.
And yet, incredibly, here he was with Ashby’s dick up his ass.
“Remember the one woman/two cock showdown you refused me on? With uh-shit, what’s her name-fuck it, it isn’t important. The point is the cock-off was bullshit. I had ulterior motive. Wanted to see your dick, man,” Ashby said. “Make sure you measure up, you know?”
Hank raised a brow. “You’re a cock snob? Huh.” He drove his hips up.
Ashby grunted, sinking further inside Hank’s ass. “But you just couldn’t go there, could you?”
“To think I was played,” Hank said dryly. “And now, having once had a taste of the beast, I’ll never be able to turn back. Is that the idea?”
Ashby dug his feet into the mattress and shoved his dick in deep in response. Hank groaned, his cock spurting a little precome onto his stomach.
“Sarcasm is the sign of a weak intellect or some such bullshit, and if you think you can shrivel my manhood with mere words you are talking to the wrong cock,” Ashby panted. He brushed his lips over Hank’s.
Hank turned away. “Woah, cowboy. I did not agree to kiss. That’s like what, the Final Frontier or something.”
“You didn’t say I could fuck you either, but-” Ashby pointed out, and Hank finished with him, “-here we are.”
“The notches on your bedpost keep growing, don’t they?” added Hank.
Ashby grabbed Hank’s dick and squeezed, shooting him a scornful look. Hank moaned, twisted in his grip. “Writers and the shit they think about. You think I bother to keep count?” He put a finger to Hank’s stomach and swirled it in the impressive amount of precome there, then brought it to his mouth and licked it off his finger. He closed his eyes and smiled, then rolled Hank higher up on his back and fucked into him three times quick, in and out.
Hank groaned, loud and long, squeezing his hands tight around his thighs. He raised his head and looked at Ashby’s dick plunging inside him. “Jesus.”
“What?” Ashby slowed.
“Nothing.” Hank dropped his head back onto the mattress, but Ashby was still looking at him. “So…so everything going okay down there?”
Ashby raised an eyebrow at him and stopped moving. “Can’t you tell?”
Hank squinted, closed one eye shut and peered sheepishly up at Ashby with the other. He shrugged. “I guess. Feels good.”
“Hell yeah, it feels good.” Ashby looked at Hank speculatively. “Shit. You’re an ass virgin, aren’t you? Man, I thought those were extinct.”
Hank tried to look scornful. “You think I’m a virgin.”
Ashby ignored him. “So some little chick never pegged your ass?”
Hank put an arm over his face. “No,” he muttered into his arm.
Ashby pried his arm away. He studied Hank a moment. “Oh, okay. I get it.” He peered exaggeratedly at Hank’s ass and laughed when Hank gave him an exasperated look. “You’re fine, Prudence. Clean as a whistle. Good enough to eat.” He winked.
Hank flushed but tried to rally as a matter of pride. “The No Rimming sign’s already posted. Be happy your dick was in before the yellow flag went up or nothing would have hit this beach.”
Ashby started moving again. “I’ll go slow. Been a long time since I popped cherry.”
“You keep up this pace and I’m going back to sleep. Where, I may add, I was perfectly happy without a cock up my ass,” Hank said.
Ashby pulled nearly all the way out and then rolled his hips, sinking back in slow and easy. Again, a little faster. “Yeah? I don’t think so.” He pushed in hard, spine arching back, knees digging into the bed.
“Oh, fuck, that’s-yeah. More. Like that.” Hank groaned, writhing.
“Like that?”
“Oh fuck yeah.” Hank slammed his head down on the mattress, gasping. “Should I call you Lew now you’re in balls deep? Ashby feels unnecessarily formal, don’t you think?”
Ashby smiled, feral grin that said he was pleased with himself and the world, then gave up and laughed outright, head thrown back. “You’re fucking with my rhythm, man,” he bitched, then looked down at Hank, still grinning. He fucked in harder, each time sliding Hank further up the mattress.
Hank closed his eyes, wished like hell they’d put a new sheet on after dragging the other one off (because who the hell knew who else had been fucked on that sheet-and on this mattress, come to think of it). He felt the drag of cock inside him, opening him up, and then the bastard hit his prostate, bump, slide, and Hank propped himself on the bed with his elbows and yelled up at the ceiling, oh fuck and Jesus.
Ashby grinned again. “Sweet spot,” he crooned, looked smug and did it again. Hank gave a full-out roar this time, white sparks disintegrating before his eyes. His cock bobbed against his stomach, begging, and Ashby jerked him once, twice, until Hank went off like a rocket in the deep blue yonder.
“You are mine, motherfucker,” Ashby said, beaming like nothing would ever swipe that motherfucking grin off his face. Hank winked at him tiredly and gave him a free bump and grind. “Fucking fuck,” Ashby groaned, hips thrusting. Hank grabbed at the mattress, trying to keep his head from banging into the headboard.
“Shit motherfucker hot damn you’ve got an ass on you,” Ashby said, coming hard, back bowed and rammed in deep. Hank nodded in agreement and laced his hands behind his head after Ashby grew still. He closed his eyes.
Instead of relaxing, Ashby’s body grew stiff. Hank felt the tension against his skin like a bowstring pulled tight. He opened his eyes.
Ashby grimaced. “Damn. Hank, I think-” His face purpled and suddenly he was gasping, veins standing out in his throat. “Hey,” he whispered raggedly, “you gonna put this in the book?”
“Shit, what’s wrong, what is it?” Hank said, panicked. He put a hand on Ashby’s chest. His eyes widened. Ashby’s heart was trip-hammering. “No, no no no.”
“Just don’t tell ’em I went out on blow, okay?” Ashby whispered. “Fuckers’ll expect that.”
“You’re not dying on me, you’re not, hear me? I’ll get help.”
“Tell ’em I died by your dick,” Ashby gasped out and fell heavily on top of Hank, eyes rolling up into his head. The whites snapped with red.
“Shit, no, no, Ashby,” Hank said, grabbing his face and shaking it. “Breathe, Jesus. Hey, hey, Lew,” Hank said. His fingers stroked Ashby’s cheeks. “Wake up,” he whispered. “C’mon, c’mon back. Please? I lied about the kissing. See?” He kissed him. “Rimming too. Now get up.”
Ashby didn’t move. His body was limp.
“Fuck, why’d you have to do this?” Hank shouted at the ceiling. The ceiling stayed quiet. So did the house.
After a while, Hank turned his forehead to Ashby’s and rested it there. “Death by ass, huh? If that’s what you want, I’ll tell 'em. Jagger will shit green envy.” Ashby didn’t answer.
Hank waited a little longer just in case Ashby breathed. He didn’t.