Prompt #47 -- Club
Title: Get Used to It
Category: X-Factor
Characters: Rictor, two OMC’s, and mentions of Shatterstar
Genre: Angst
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own a thing
Summary: Rictor goes out to blow off some steam.
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It was amazing how much anger one person could generate in one short lifetime. And while most people did spend enough of their time relatively content, the same could not be said for Julio Richter. The amount of anger he tended to generate on a daily basis was probably somewhere close to the amount a normal person would feel in half a year. For someone who was so negative and infuriated so much, it was even more amazing that he could never find a way to snap himself out of it. The only thing that ever really seemed to help was senseless violence.
But even a street fight wasn’t appealing that particular night.
He had proceeded to count up all the different ways he could control his mood, and found himself back at a dance club. There he could get wasted, drown himself in obnoxiously loud beats, and get pushed around by a swarm of bodies. And while it was not really a permanent solution to his problems, it was enough to control his rage. If the rage was controlled then he would not have to spend the night in jail, which was also a plus.
He had to ask himself what in the world had drawn him back to that particular place. One time in his life he had willed up the courage to enter a gay club. His excuse at the time for doing such a thing was just because it was a way to help his gay best friend. Even stranger was the fact that said gay best friend was the absolute direct source of his anger that particular night, so why did he come to a place that only reminded Rictor of time spent with him?
He had absolutely no idea.
Maybe it was the fact that it was somewhere new, and he would not run into a familiar face. Maybe it was the fact he just wanted to spite Shatterstar and hurt him right back. Or maybe it was the fact that he had managed to garner so much sexual attention from the patrons last time he had visited. Whatever the case was, he was there and he needed to find a way to rid himself of the wallowing pit of misery within him.
After only an hour and a half he had found himself with handfuls of different dance partners, and had managed to down at least a dozen shots. He had not managed to say a single word to anyone in the place, except for to order his tequila. Hot, burning alcohol that got him trashed quickly. A hangover was a definite consequence of the choice, but at that point he held no cares whatsoever. Physical pain beat emotional pain for him any day, masochistic or not.
The energetic beat of some skanky Nine Inch Nails song, that he could not for the life of him remember the name of, began blasting through the speakers, and again the massive group of bodies on the dance floor accumulated. Front and back and side by side Rictor felt the sweat slicked flesh of dancing men. There were so many of them, all different races and sizes, and it was nice to be just a nameless, faceless body amongst them.
A peppy blonde spun around in front of him and shot him a dashing grin. Rictor nodded in return, and swayed closer to him when the other man threw thin arms around his neck. The Mexican placed both his hands on his hips and pulled him closer. His smaller dance partner licked his lips and ran his hand through the back of Julio’s hair.
“Hey there. What’s your name?”
“Rick.”
"I’ve never seen you around here before!”
Julio shrugged and smirked when the man spun in his grasp and pushed his ass into lap. “No; I, uh, I usually work nights.”
“Bummer,” the blonde pouted playfully, and raised a hand over his head to loop around Ric’s neck. “My name’s Todd.”
Rictor just nodded silently at Todd. The guy was definitely an enthusiastic dancer, and Julio actually had to make an effort to keep up with him. The slender body twisted and grinded against him, and momentarily Ric could not stop his hands from travelling. The blonde wore only a pair of red pants - leather or vinyl, or something - and a thin black tank that he seemed to have hemmed himself. Todd appeared to be a total queen, but Ric did not mind his company.
The shorter man grabbed one of Ric’s hands in his own and spun around him. “You’re a good dancer, Rick.”
“And you ain’t too shabby yourself,” he remarked.
Todd inched closer, once more snaking his arms over Julio’s shoulders. “You’re damn straight. I figured someone better do you the favour and get that nasty frown off your face. You been blowing off steam all night, Mister.”
Rictor furrowed his eyebrows. “What? I--” his eyes widened when a hand slipped down and squeezed one side of his ass tightly. Todd looked up at him with mischievous green eyes and grinned.
“Shut up.”
Rictor opened his mouth to retort, but only quickly had his voice muffled by a tongue making its way down his throat. All he could do was stand completely dumbfounded at the guy’s audacity, and it took him a couple of seconds to actually kiss him back. Of course, it could have just been the alcohol that had added to the momentary brain function relapse. Either way, he let his eyelids flutter closed and grabbed Todd by the waist. They bounced softly on their feet along to the rhythm of the music, but Ric could not help but inwardly groan at the taste of the guy’s mouth. Weed, cigarettes, and a whole abundance of different liquors combined.
On the other hand, Rictor was a little too drunk to care enough to push him away.
Todd pulled back first and spun around again to sashay around him. Rictor slid his hand down the length of blonde’s arm before catching his hand and pulling him back to his front. Todd grinned and rubbed up against him. “You’re not so bad when you’re actually smiling.”
Rictor rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Todd rolled his eyes right back and ran his finger’s down Julio’s chest. They continued to move together for a few more moments before another equally scrawny blonde caught Todd’s eye. The new man nodded at him. “We’re all going home now! Do you want a ride or not!?”
Todd nodded and spun around in Ric’s grasp. “Well I guess this is good-bye, Prince Charming. My man beckons.”
“Your man!?” Rictor asked incredulously and stopped moving.
Todd nodded happily and pressed another kiss against the Mexican’s mouth; the smaller man’s hand made a few more grabs before he pulled away completely. “A little fun’s always good, Rick, but you always go home with your man.” Todd shot him one more smile before swiftly bounding off with a little wave. Julio stood in the middle of the dance floor for a couple of seconds just blinking.
He then remembered exactly what it was that he did not like about club life.
Sighing, he made his way through the sea of bodies and back toward the bar. His buzz had waned, and he felt the sudden urge to slam back some more shots. However, he knew he had not brought as much cash with him as he should have. He had left the house in a hurry, and there weren’t many places open at this hour in midtown Manhattan that he could dig into his bank account. More than likely he would have to just stumble home in the dark and become consumed by his thoughts once more.
The thought alone made him groan out loud, and he leaned up against the brightly lit bar. The server shot him a nod, and Rictor could not help but frown again for the millionth time that night. “Double. Tequila. On the rocks.”
The dark skinned man nodded, and grabbed him a glass. The Mexican watched him absently as he filled it, and he could not help but feel that ridiculous loneliness creep up on him again. He felt like a joke. Sitting at some goofily pretty bar and getting drunk all by himself without a friend in sight.
Then he remembered that he did not really have any friends.
Rictor cleared his throat miserably and slid a couple of dollars toward the bartender. Pitched the piece of lemon stuck in his drink, and slammed his booze back. Ice crashed against his teeth, and a cold shiver ran up his spine as the alcohol burned hotly in his throat. Again, his head started spinning. And again, his heart sank some more. No matter how much he tried to distract himself, it still hurt. He hurt so much, and Rictor cursed himself for letting it get to him. Shatterstar was an asshole, mind wipe or not, and he had every right in the world to be mad at him.
Even so, how come he still wanted him back so badly?
“Need another?”
Julio jumped sluggishly at the new voice, and peered over to see a young, spiky haired brunette smiling shyly at him. Ric furrowed his eyebrows. “Huh?”
“Can I buy you a drink?” the man clarified.
“Oh, uh…” Rictor shook away the throb in his head, and focused on keeping his gaze level. “Uhm, yeah that’d be good. I could use s’more.”
The man nodded and gestured to the bartender. “I’ll take two of whatever he’s having.”
The large black man nodded, and eyed Rictor. “You managing okay there, buddy?”
Rictor nodded a little too quickly. “Yup.”
“I was watching you out on the dance floor,” his new companion spoke up again.
“Oh yeah? That’s nice.”
“You look like you could use some company.”
Rictor rolled his eyes, and instantly grabbed for his drink when it was placed on the bar. “Where’d you get that idea?”
The brunette shrugged, and Ric gave him the once over. He was not much taller, but he was definitely thicker. He wore a silk button up shirt and a neat pair of jeans; he was a lot cleaner cut and more preppy than Rictor was, which kind of surprised the Mexican. Guys like that were usually too arrogant and stuck up to give the time of day to people like him. But the dude was willing to spend his money, so Ric could give a shit less.
“I’m Daniel,” he held out his hand and grinned again, but Ric saw the hesitation behind it.
“What’s wrong Dan?” the Mexican smirked as he grabbed his hand. “You’re shaking, amigo.”
“Nothing!” he defended and widened his eyes. “I just-I don’t usually go picking up people is all.”
“That what you’re doing?” Julio could not help the amused smile that twitched his lips.
Dan blushed and ran a hand through his hair. “No! I mean, uhm, well you’re-uhm, it’s just…”
“Relax,” Rictor laughed at him. “I ain’t interrogating you. ‘Sides, it s’not like I’m anything to get worked up over, hombre.”
Daniel took a deep breath before taking a quick drink of his tequila. His face scrunched up slightly as he swallowed, but he managed to take it down all right. That was a plus. He gave Ric a sheepish smile and shrugged. “Don’t sell yourself short. I noticed you dancing over an hour ago.”
“And you just decided to wait until I was angrier and more miserable than I’ve been all night to approach me?”
“Well--”
“That’s all right, ‘cause I just ran outta money anyhow,” the Mexican frowned and peered inside his empty wallet with a scowl. “I don’t even remember drinking that much.”
“I remember,” the bartender snorted.
“Who was asking you?” Ric spat.
“Just remember who can cut you off,” the bigger man warned with a pointed finger.
“Whatever, man,” Julio rolled his eyes.
“So, uh…” Dan trailed off hesitantly. “I never caught your name.”
“Jake,” Rictor replied.
“Jake? That’s a nice name,” Daniel babbled before gesturing to the server for another round. “What do you do for a living? You a cop or an army boy? I kinda get that vibe from you.”
“Neither nor, but sorta kinda both,” Julio responded vaguely, but did not elaborate.
Dan just looked absolutely confused, but probably just assumed Rictor was a little too drunk to notice his own babbling - which it was almost getting to that point, but that did not matter. So to take control of the conversation, Dan just started going on about himself and how he managed to wander his way into the club that night. Rictor just stared at him blankly as he talked, watching his lips move but tuning out the sound that came out of them. The guy rambled on about as much as Shatty did, only with less interesting things to say.
The Mexican just leaned against the bar drunkenly and continued to take the drinks Dan kept buying for him. So long as he looked remotely interested in what the brunette had to say, Julio figured he could keep getting free booze. That was a plus.
After the sixth one, Rictor was pretty sure he could not figure out what Daniel was even trying to say anymore. All he could do was focus on keeping himself upright. And the way the guy only seemed to give a shit about himself. What a cocky bastard; how come he always got stuck with people like that? Julio squinted and watched his lips move. He had a small freckle on the middle of his bottom lip. Freckles were so adorable - in a…manly kind of way, he supposed. Shatterstar had a lot of them, and Rictor liked them.
He frowned.
No, he didn’t. Shatterstar was a fucking ass wipe.
Julio stepped closer to Daniel and pressed his face into the crook of his neck. The other man stopped talking and moving about and allowed Rictor to kiss along the flesh there. He smelled really nice, Rictor decided, and somewhere in the far recesses of his mind he remembered Terry telling him how much of a turn on cologne was. Yes, he figured he could agree with that. Daniel smelled great and the salty, sweaty feel of his flesh was even nicer. Hesitantly, the bigger man placed his hands on Rictor’s waist shakily and held him. Hands remained unadventurous, but Julio did not much care.
His tongue popped out of his mouth and traced along the exposed flesh of Dan’s throat and down to the dip in his collar bone. The silk shirt got in the way a bit, so Rictor raised his hands up to pop open the buttons there.
“Hey!” the bartender shouted. “Get that shit off my bar and take it somewhere else. You’re blocking everyone else who actually wants to buy something!”
“M-maybe we should go somewhere else?” Daniel asked him, as he led the Mexican away from the bar and toward the lobby.
“Where ya gonna take me, huh?” Ric asked as he continued to work on the shirt.
“Uhm, I’m not too sure. Wherever you want,” Dan continued to blubber, and stopped to rest against the wall when Rictor reached out and cupped his groin over his pants. “Uh-uhm, you should at least try to walk if you, uh, you know, want to make it outta here…”
Rictor stepped back clumsily, and shot a hand out to steady himself on the wall as he stared at the taller man. “I’m doing just fucking fine, thank you!”
“I know! I know! I didn’t mean that!” Dan insisted.
“Well then, howzabout you get your ass out that door already, hm?” Rictor nodded to the red exit sign on the ceiling a few feet to the left of them. “I ain’t gonna wait all night, cabron.”
“Cabron?” the guy perked an eyebrow as he wrapped an arm around Julio’s waist.
“You heard me.”
“I--” Daniel opened his mouth to talk again, but Rictor seriously did not want to hear him anymore. So he closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth against his lips. They stumbled backwards toward the exit and right out the door without breaking apart. Finally Daniel returned the gesture, and slid his tongue into Rictor’s mouth. It was obvious once the other man’s instincts took over; hands roamed all over Ric’s chest and body, and he groaned into his mouth.
Rictor grabbed him by the front of the shirt and slammed him into the wall of the club. He felt the breath hitch in Dan’s throat at the contact, so Julio pulled away to take in their surroundings. They were in the alley behind the club, and with the exception of a couple of other drunken couples along the far ends of the walls, they were basically alone and protected by the darkness of the late night.
Daniel did not take to the sudden lack of attention appreciatively. Lifting his hands to grab Rictor’s shirt, he quickly reversed their rolls and turned them so that Julio was the one backed into the bricks. A sudden dizziness swarmed in his head, but he was still coherent enough to realize that Daniel had begun unzipping his pants.
“That’s it, chupame la pinga,” he drawled, and arched his back off of the wall. Daniel looked at him questioningly, but did not voice anything. He just swallowed loudly and tugged on Ric’s jeans until they rolled down his hips. The briefs quickly followed, and the brunette eyed the painstakingly hard cock hesitantly before Rictor pushed his hips forward. Dan instantly popped the head into his mouth and began to run his tongue along the tip of it, and Rictor let out a loud groan.
For a couple of quick, wonderful moments Julio could not feel a damn thing except for the warmth of that mouth circling his dick. There was no bad night, no sadness, no betrayal, and no thoughts of that gorgeous, sexy redhead in his thoughts. That stupid asshole, sexy redhead. No, backstabber. Liar, asshole redhead. But still sexy. A little bit.
Rictor grunted, and grabbed onto the sides of Daniel’s head. He clutched two fistfuls of that spiky brown hair, and forced his face further down the length of his cock. He wanted to fuck his mouth and his throat and make him deep throat him like the little bitch he was. Ric did not care for any of that head teasing, suckling crap.
“Aw yeah,” the Mexican let his jaw go slack, and tipped his head back against the sharp bricks of the wall. Daniel bobbed along him precisely; lips over his teeth as he tightly sucked. A warm tongue swirled and teased the large vein on the underside of his cock, as his large hand pumped the base of him and set up the rhythm of his movements. After just a few short moments, Dan's other hand joined in on the fun and grabbed at Julio’s sack. He pulled down on the skin and gently rolled the balls beneath it between his fingers, and Ric’s hips bucked at the feel of it.
“Madre de Dios,” he fisted the hair tighter and thrusted his hips to go along with the other man’s movements as best he could. Saliva slicked him so well that the cock slid quickly to the back of Dan’s throat. He gagged slightly, but Rictor didn’t give a shit enough to pay attention.
There was no point in paying attention because he did not give a shit what happened to this asshole after this was over. All Dan was-was-
Rictor swallowed and bucked his hips faster. Daniel began pumping him faster when he got the hint, and moved his mouth back up to Rictor’s head. He bobbed furiously and the frantic pace of it made Ric’s toes curl in his shoes. His biceps and his forearm muscles contracted tightly, and he slumped against the wall.The need to spread his legs consumed him, and he did so as far as his loosened pants allowed him to. Dan wrapped an arm around Julio’s thigh, and hummed against him.
Rictor’s eyes rolled back in his head at the slight vibration around the other man’s lips, and he forgot how much he loved the feel of that. Humming. Hmm, that reminded him of-
Rictor shook his head violently, and dropped a hand back against the brick wall. Scraped his fingernails against the rough texture and clenched his jaw as pressure built up in his balls and groin. Daniel dipped his tongue along the slit in Ric’s cock, and he groaned again.
The muscles in his stomach clenched tightly before a large wave of intensity shot up Ric’s spine and just exploded through his limbs, his head, and straight out his cock and into the warmth of Dan’s mouth. Again, the other male gagged slightly, but managed to take it down. That was a plus. Ric’s jaw dropped as he muttered incoherently at the release.
“Do you want to, uhm, come back to my place, Jake?”
Rictor blinked and shook his sweaty hair from his eyes. “Huh?”
Daniel adjusted his tented jeans and blushed slightly. “To my place. Do you want to come back there with me? We can…”
“No fucking way,” the Mexican snapped and pulled away from him. “I don’t know what the fuck you have. What do I look like to you, huh? Some fucking hustler?”
“What!?” Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before hopping to his feet. “No, I don’t have anything, Jake! I just, uh, I really want to--”
“You finish that sentence and I’ll fuck you up faster than you can even say ‘fruitcake’,” Rictor hissed, and yanked his pants back up.
“What the heck, man?!” he demanded, and spun Rictor around by the arm. “What is your problem? I thought we were having a good time?!”
“Yeah, and now play time’s over,” Julio snapped and yanked out of the bigger man’s grasp. He fiddled around with his belt and scoffed. “I’m fucking going home. Alone. To my asshole--”
He stopped that sentence and an overwhelming urge to just kick the fucking hell out of someone came over him.
“You have someone?” Dan whispered.
“No,” he snapped in reply. “I’m too fucking drunk. Thanks for the blow, but, yeah. Hasta la vista.”
“Is it always like this around here?” Daniel called from behind him, and something about the disappointed tone of his voice made Rictor turn around and look back at him. Again, he had to grab the wall to steady himself, and he narrowed his eyes to focus his vision. Daniel stood with his hands jammed in his pockets and a giant frown graced his lips.
“Huh?” was all Ric could say.
“These kinds of clubs,” he said slowly. “Did I do something wrong, or what? That was kinda my first time…”
Suddenly Doc Samson’s voice rung through Rictor’s ears, and the Mexican scowled angrily. Fucking figures; why did he always do that? He just snorted dismissively and turned around before heading out of the alley and out to the street. “Get used to it! Ain’t no one that’ll stick around to get serious with you anyhow, kid!”
“Shit…” Daniel muttered distantly behind him.
Rictor grabbed at his temples. Then realized his pants were still undone, and fought to fix them. Motherfucker. He had no idea what the hell time it was, nor did he even remember how he got there. All that he knew was that he was right back to square one in generating that ridiculous amount of anger again. No matter what the hell he tried to do to snap himself out of it though, nothing ever seemed to fucking work.
Rictor collapsed down onto a bus stop bench and dropped his head into his hands. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered getting out of bed in the morning.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Go on to chapter fifteen.
Category: X-Factor
Characters: Rictor, two OMC’s, and mentions of Shatterstar
Genre: Angst
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own a thing
Summary: Rictor goes out to blow off some steam.
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It was amazing how much anger one person could generate in one short lifetime. And while most people did spend enough of their time relatively content, the same could not be said for Julio Richter. The amount of anger he tended to generate on a daily basis was probably somewhere close to the amount a normal person would feel in half a year. For someone who was so negative and infuriated so much, it was even more amazing that he could never find a way to snap himself out of it. The only thing that ever really seemed to help was senseless violence.
But even a street fight wasn’t appealing that particular night.
He had proceeded to count up all the different ways he could control his mood, and found himself back at a dance club. There he could get wasted, drown himself in obnoxiously loud beats, and get pushed around by a swarm of bodies. And while it was not really a permanent solution to his problems, it was enough to control his rage. If the rage was controlled then he would not have to spend the night in jail, which was also a plus.
He had to ask himself what in the world had drawn him back to that particular place. One time in his life he had willed up the courage to enter a gay club. His excuse at the time for doing such a thing was just because it was a way to help his gay best friend. Even stranger was the fact that said gay best friend was the absolute direct source of his anger that particular night, so why did he come to a place that only reminded Rictor of time spent with him?
He had absolutely no idea.
Maybe it was the fact that it was somewhere new, and he would not run into a familiar face. Maybe it was the fact he just wanted to spite Shatterstar and hurt him right back. Or maybe it was the fact that he had managed to garner so much sexual attention from the patrons last time he had visited. Whatever the case was, he was there and he needed to find a way to rid himself of the wallowing pit of misery within him.
After only an hour and a half he had found himself with handfuls of different dance partners, and had managed to down at least a dozen shots. He had not managed to say a single word to anyone in the place, except for to order his tequila. Hot, burning alcohol that got him trashed quickly. A hangover was a definite consequence of the choice, but at that point he held no cares whatsoever. Physical pain beat emotional pain for him any day, masochistic or not.
The energetic beat of some skanky Nine Inch Nails song, that he could not for the life of him remember the name of, began blasting through the speakers, and again the massive group of bodies on the dance floor accumulated. Front and back and side by side Rictor felt the sweat slicked flesh of dancing men. There were so many of them, all different races and sizes, and it was nice to be just a nameless, faceless body amongst them.
A peppy blonde spun around in front of him and shot him a dashing grin. Rictor nodded in return, and swayed closer to him when the other man threw thin arms around his neck. The Mexican placed both his hands on his hips and pulled him closer. His smaller dance partner licked his lips and ran his hand through the back of Julio’s hair.
“Hey there. What’s your name?”
“Rick.”
"I’ve never seen you around here before!”
Julio shrugged and smirked when the man spun in his grasp and pushed his ass into lap. “No; I, uh, I usually work nights.”
“Bummer,” the blonde pouted playfully, and raised a hand over his head to loop around Ric’s neck. “My name’s Todd.”
Rictor just nodded silently at Todd. The guy was definitely an enthusiastic dancer, and Julio actually had to make an effort to keep up with him. The slender body twisted and grinded against him, and momentarily Ric could not stop his hands from travelling. The blonde wore only a pair of red pants - leather or vinyl, or something - and a thin black tank that he seemed to have hemmed himself. Todd appeared to be a total queen, but Ric did not mind his company.
The shorter man grabbed one of Ric’s hands in his own and spun around him. “You’re a good dancer, Rick.”
“And you ain’t too shabby yourself,” he remarked.
Todd inched closer, once more snaking his arms over Julio’s shoulders. “You’re damn straight. I figured someone better do you the favour and get that nasty frown off your face. You been blowing off steam all night, Mister.”
Rictor furrowed his eyebrows. “What? I--” his eyes widened when a hand slipped down and squeezed one side of his ass tightly. Todd looked up at him with mischievous green eyes and grinned.
“Shut up.”
Rictor opened his mouth to retort, but only quickly had his voice muffled by a tongue making its way down his throat. All he could do was stand completely dumbfounded at the guy’s audacity, and it took him a couple of seconds to actually kiss him back. Of course, it could have just been the alcohol that had added to the momentary brain function relapse. Either way, he let his eyelids flutter closed and grabbed Todd by the waist. They bounced softly on their feet along to the rhythm of the music, but Ric could not help but inwardly groan at the taste of the guy’s mouth. Weed, cigarettes, and a whole abundance of different liquors combined.
On the other hand, Rictor was a little too drunk to care enough to push him away.
Todd pulled back first and spun around again to sashay around him. Rictor slid his hand down the length of blonde’s arm before catching his hand and pulling him back to his front. Todd grinned and rubbed up against him. “You’re not so bad when you’re actually smiling.”
Rictor rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Todd rolled his eyes right back and ran his finger’s down Julio’s chest. They continued to move together for a few more moments before another equally scrawny blonde caught Todd’s eye. The new man nodded at him. “We’re all going home now! Do you want a ride or not!?”
Todd nodded and spun around in Ric’s grasp. “Well I guess this is good-bye, Prince Charming. My man beckons.”
“Your man!?” Rictor asked incredulously and stopped moving.
Todd nodded happily and pressed another kiss against the Mexican’s mouth; the smaller man’s hand made a few more grabs before he pulled away completely. “A little fun’s always good, Rick, but you always go home with your man.” Todd shot him one more smile before swiftly bounding off with a little wave. Julio stood in the middle of the dance floor for a couple of seconds just blinking.
He then remembered exactly what it was that he did not like about club life.
Sighing, he made his way through the sea of bodies and back toward the bar. His buzz had waned, and he felt the sudden urge to slam back some more shots. However, he knew he had not brought as much cash with him as he should have. He had left the house in a hurry, and there weren’t many places open at this hour in midtown Manhattan that he could dig into his bank account. More than likely he would have to just stumble home in the dark and become consumed by his thoughts once more.
The thought alone made him groan out loud, and he leaned up against the brightly lit bar. The server shot him a nod, and Rictor could not help but frown again for the millionth time that night. “Double. Tequila. On the rocks.”
The dark skinned man nodded, and grabbed him a glass. The Mexican watched him absently as he filled it, and he could not help but feel that ridiculous loneliness creep up on him again. He felt like a joke. Sitting at some goofily pretty bar and getting drunk all by himself without a friend in sight.
Then he remembered that he did not really have any friends.
Rictor cleared his throat miserably and slid a couple of dollars toward the bartender. Pitched the piece of lemon stuck in his drink, and slammed his booze back. Ice crashed against his teeth, and a cold shiver ran up his spine as the alcohol burned hotly in his throat. Again, his head started spinning. And again, his heart sank some more. No matter how much he tried to distract himself, it still hurt. He hurt so much, and Rictor cursed himself for letting it get to him. Shatterstar was an asshole, mind wipe or not, and he had every right in the world to be mad at him.
Even so, how come he still wanted him back so badly?
“Need another?”
Julio jumped sluggishly at the new voice, and peered over to see a young, spiky haired brunette smiling shyly at him. Ric furrowed his eyebrows. “Huh?”
“Can I buy you a drink?” the man clarified.
“Oh, uh…” Rictor shook away the throb in his head, and focused on keeping his gaze level. “Uhm, yeah that’d be good. I could use s’more.”
The man nodded and gestured to the bartender. “I’ll take two of whatever he’s having.”
The large black man nodded, and eyed Rictor. “You managing okay there, buddy?”
Rictor nodded a little too quickly. “Yup.”
“I was watching you out on the dance floor,” his new companion spoke up again.
“Oh yeah? That’s nice.”
“You look like you could use some company.”
Rictor rolled his eyes, and instantly grabbed for his drink when it was placed on the bar. “Where’d you get that idea?”
The brunette shrugged, and Ric gave him the once over. He was not much taller, but he was definitely thicker. He wore a silk button up shirt and a neat pair of jeans; he was a lot cleaner cut and more preppy than Rictor was, which kind of surprised the Mexican. Guys like that were usually too arrogant and stuck up to give the time of day to people like him. But the dude was willing to spend his money, so Ric could give a shit less.
“I’m Daniel,” he held out his hand and grinned again, but Ric saw the hesitation behind it.
“What’s wrong Dan?” the Mexican smirked as he grabbed his hand. “You’re shaking, amigo.”
“Nothing!” he defended and widened his eyes. “I just-I don’t usually go picking up people is all.”
“That what you’re doing?” Julio could not help the amused smile that twitched his lips.
Dan blushed and ran a hand through his hair. “No! I mean, uhm, well you’re-uhm, it’s just…”
“Relax,” Rictor laughed at him. “I ain’t interrogating you. ‘Sides, it s’not like I’m anything to get worked up over, hombre.”
Daniel took a deep breath before taking a quick drink of his tequila. His face scrunched up slightly as he swallowed, but he managed to take it down all right. That was a plus. He gave Ric a sheepish smile and shrugged. “Don’t sell yourself short. I noticed you dancing over an hour ago.”
“And you just decided to wait until I was angrier and more miserable than I’ve been all night to approach me?”
“Well--”
“That’s all right, ‘cause I just ran outta money anyhow,” the Mexican frowned and peered inside his empty wallet with a scowl. “I don’t even remember drinking that much.”
“I remember,” the bartender snorted.
“Who was asking you?” Ric spat.
“Just remember who can cut you off,” the bigger man warned with a pointed finger.
“Whatever, man,” Julio rolled his eyes.
“So, uh…” Dan trailed off hesitantly. “I never caught your name.”
“Jake,” Rictor replied.
“Jake? That’s a nice name,” Daniel babbled before gesturing to the server for another round. “What do you do for a living? You a cop or an army boy? I kinda get that vibe from you.”
“Neither nor, but sorta kinda both,” Julio responded vaguely, but did not elaborate.
Dan just looked absolutely confused, but probably just assumed Rictor was a little too drunk to notice his own babbling - which it was almost getting to that point, but that did not matter. So to take control of the conversation, Dan just started going on about himself and how he managed to wander his way into the club that night. Rictor just stared at him blankly as he talked, watching his lips move but tuning out the sound that came out of them. The guy rambled on about as much as Shatty did, only with less interesting things to say.
The Mexican just leaned against the bar drunkenly and continued to take the drinks Dan kept buying for him. So long as he looked remotely interested in what the brunette had to say, Julio figured he could keep getting free booze. That was a plus.
After the sixth one, Rictor was pretty sure he could not figure out what Daniel was even trying to say anymore. All he could do was focus on keeping himself upright. And the way the guy only seemed to give a shit about himself. What a cocky bastard; how come he always got stuck with people like that? Julio squinted and watched his lips move. He had a small freckle on the middle of his bottom lip. Freckles were so adorable - in a…manly kind of way, he supposed. Shatterstar had a lot of them, and Rictor liked them.
He frowned.
No, he didn’t. Shatterstar was a fucking ass wipe.
Julio stepped closer to Daniel and pressed his face into the crook of his neck. The other man stopped talking and moving about and allowed Rictor to kiss along the flesh there. He smelled really nice, Rictor decided, and somewhere in the far recesses of his mind he remembered Terry telling him how much of a turn on cologne was. Yes, he figured he could agree with that. Daniel smelled great and the salty, sweaty feel of his flesh was even nicer. Hesitantly, the bigger man placed his hands on Rictor’s waist shakily and held him. Hands remained unadventurous, but Julio did not much care.
His tongue popped out of his mouth and traced along the exposed flesh of Dan’s throat and down to the dip in his collar bone. The silk shirt got in the way a bit, so Rictor raised his hands up to pop open the buttons there.
“Hey!” the bartender shouted. “Get that shit off my bar and take it somewhere else. You’re blocking everyone else who actually wants to buy something!”
“M-maybe we should go somewhere else?” Daniel asked him, as he led the Mexican away from the bar and toward the lobby.
“Where ya gonna take me, huh?” Ric asked as he continued to work on the shirt.
“Uhm, I’m not too sure. Wherever you want,” Dan continued to blubber, and stopped to rest against the wall when Rictor reached out and cupped his groin over his pants. “Uh-uhm, you should at least try to walk if you, uh, you know, want to make it outta here…”
Rictor stepped back clumsily, and shot a hand out to steady himself on the wall as he stared at the taller man. “I’m doing just fucking fine, thank you!”
“I know! I know! I didn’t mean that!” Dan insisted.
“Well then, howzabout you get your ass out that door already, hm?” Rictor nodded to the red exit sign on the ceiling a few feet to the left of them. “I ain’t gonna wait all night, cabron.”
“Cabron?” the guy perked an eyebrow as he wrapped an arm around Julio’s waist.
“You heard me.”
“I--” Daniel opened his mouth to talk again, but Rictor seriously did not want to hear him anymore. So he closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth against his lips. They stumbled backwards toward the exit and right out the door without breaking apart. Finally Daniel returned the gesture, and slid his tongue into Rictor’s mouth. It was obvious once the other man’s instincts took over; hands roamed all over Ric’s chest and body, and he groaned into his mouth.
Rictor grabbed him by the front of the shirt and slammed him into the wall of the club. He felt the breath hitch in Dan’s throat at the contact, so Julio pulled away to take in their surroundings. They were in the alley behind the club, and with the exception of a couple of other drunken couples along the far ends of the walls, they were basically alone and protected by the darkness of the late night.
Daniel did not take to the sudden lack of attention appreciatively. Lifting his hands to grab Rictor’s shirt, he quickly reversed their rolls and turned them so that Julio was the one backed into the bricks. A sudden dizziness swarmed in his head, but he was still coherent enough to realize that Daniel had begun unzipping his pants.
“That’s it, chupame la pinga,” he drawled, and arched his back off of the wall. Daniel looked at him questioningly, but did not voice anything. He just swallowed loudly and tugged on Ric’s jeans until they rolled down his hips. The briefs quickly followed, and the brunette eyed the painstakingly hard cock hesitantly before Rictor pushed his hips forward. Dan instantly popped the head into his mouth and began to run his tongue along the tip of it, and Rictor let out a loud groan.
For a couple of quick, wonderful moments Julio could not feel a damn thing except for the warmth of that mouth circling his dick. There was no bad night, no sadness, no betrayal, and no thoughts of that gorgeous, sexy redhead in his thoughts. That stupid asshole, sexy redhead. No, backstabber. Liar, asshole redhead. But still sexy. A little bit.
Rictor grunted, and grabbed onto the sides of Daniel’s head. He clutched two fistfuls of that spiky brown hair, and forced his face further down the length of his cock. He wanted to fuck his mouth and his throat and make him deep throat him like the little bitch he was. Ric did not care for any of that head teasing, suckling crap.
“Aw yeah,” the Mexican let his jaw go slack, and tipped his head back against the sharp bricks of the wall. Daniel bobbed along him precisely; lips over his teeth as he tightly sucked. A warm tongue swirled and teased the large vein on the underside of his cock, as his large hand pumped the base of him and set up the rhythm of his movements. After just a few short moments, Dan's other hand joined in on the fun and grabbed at Julio’s sack. He pulled down on the skin and gently rolled the balls beneath it between his fingers, and Ric’s hips bucked at the feel of it.
“Madre de Dios,” he fisted the hair tighter and thrusted his hips to go along with the other man’s movements as best he could. Saliva slicked him so well that the cock slid quickly to the back of Dan’s throat. He gagged slightly, but Rictor didn’t give a shit enough to pay attention.
There was no point in paying attention because he did not give a shit what happened to this asshole after this was over. All Dan was-was-
Rictor swallowed and bucked his hips faster. Daniel began pumping him faster when he got the hint, and moved his mouth back up to Rictor’s head. He bobbed furiously and the frantic pace of it made Ric’s toes curl in his shoes. His biceps and his forearm muscles contracted tightly, and he slumped against the wall.The need to spread his legs consumed him, and he did so as far as his loosened pants allowed him to. Dan wrapped an arm around Julio’s thigh, and hummed against him.
Rictor’s eyes rolled back in his head at the slight vibration around the other man’s lips, and he forgot how much he loved the feel of that. Humming. Hmm, that reminded him of-
Rictor shook his head violently, and dropped a hand back against the brick wall. Scraped his fingernails against the rough texture and clenched his jaw as pressure built up in his balls and groin. Daniel dipped his tongue along the slit in Ric’s cock, and he groaned again.
The muscles in his stomach clenched tightly before a large wave of intensity shot up Ric’s spine and just exploded through his limbs, his head, and straight out his cock and into the warmth of Dan’s mouth. Again, the other male gagged slightly, but managed to take it down. That was a plus. Ric’s jaw dropped as he muttered incoherently at the release.
“Do you want to, uhm, come back to my place, Jake?”
Rictor blinked and shook his sweaty hair from his eyes. “Huh?”
Daniel adjusted his tented jeans and blushed slightly. “To my place. Do you want to come back there with me? We can…”
“No fucking way,” the Mexican snapped and pulled away from him. “I don’t know what the fuck you have. What do I look like to you, huh? Some fucking hustler?”
“What!?” Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before hopping to his feet. “No, I don’t have anything, Jake! I just, uh, I really want to--”
“You finish that sentence and I’ll fuck you up faster than you can even say ‘fruitcake’,” Rictor hissed, and yanked his pants back up.
“What the heck, man?!” he demanded, and spun Rictor around by the arm. “What is your problem? I thought we were having a good time?!”
“Yeah, and now play time’s over,” Julio snapped and yanked out of the bigger man’s grasp. He fiddled around with his belt and scoffed. “I’m fucking going home. Alone. To my asshole--”
He stopped that sentence and an overwhelming urge to just kick the fucking hell out of someone came over him.
“You have someone?” Dan whispered.
“No,” he snapped in reply. “I’m too fucking drunk. Thanks for the blow, but, yeah. Hasta la vista.”
“Is it always like this around here?” Daniel called from behind him, and something about the disappointed tone of his voice made Rictor turn around and look back at him. Again, he had to grab the wall to steady himself, and he narrowed his eyes to focus his vision. Daniel stood with his hands jammed in his pockets and a giant frown graced his lips.
“Huh?” was all Ric could say.
“These kinds of clubs,” he said slowly. “Did I do something wrong, or what? That was kinda my first time…”
Suddenly Doc Samson’s voice rung through Rictor’s ears, and the Mexican scowled angrily. Fucking figures; why did he always do that? He just snorted dismissively and turned around before heading out of the alley and out to the street. “Get used to it! Ain’t no one that’ll stick around to get serious with you anyhow, kid!”
“Shit…” Daniel muttered distantly behind him.
Rictor grabbed at his temples. Then realized his pants were still undone, and fought to fix them. Motherfucker. He had no idea what the hell time it was, nor did he even remember how he got there. All that he knew was that he was right back to square one in generating that ridiculous amount of anger again. No matter what the hell he tried to do to snap himself out of it though, nothing ever seemed to fucking work.
Rictor collapsed down onto a bus stop bench and dropped his head into his hands. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered getting out of bed in the morning.
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Go on to chapter fifteen.