Subtext? We don't need no stinkin' subtext!
The Hollow II by Dana
Woods
Rated NC17
Part of the The Hollow Series. See fic
page for series listing.
Note: So totally and utterly AU this might as well not even
be considered fanfic. Lindsey never made it to law school. He's a hustler,
and he comes to L.A. in S2. Gunn keeps going back for more. Graphic sex depicted
here, folks. This part written for a very nice anonymous person who gifted
me with free LJ time.
Gunn doesn't know what the hell he's doing. All right, yeah, he knows what: standing in an alley in the seediest neck of L.A., leaning against a brick wall slimy with who-the-fuck-knows-what, looking down and watching his dick slide past lips that were meant to do what they're doing. Getting swallowed down to his balls by some little shit that looks like he should be standing out in front of a trailer drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon and bitching 'bout colored folk taking over the town.
He doesn't know why, though. Gunn took his turn with this Lindsey guy last night, and it cost him half the contents of his wallet. But when he woke up, barely hung over because he'd been too tired to drink past the initial buzz, he was hard as a rock and wishing he'd had the boy on his knees. Couldn't get the thought out of his head, and when it got dark he hit the cash machine and made his way here.
All right, yeah, so maybe he knows why, too.
Lindsey's blowing him like a greedy little bastard. Sucking his dick long and hard, working his hand down at the base, taking it down his goddamn throat every chance he gets. That long hair of his is falling in his face, so Gunn reaches down and pushes it away. He grabs a handful while he's at it and the hand holding Gunn's thigh for balance clenches.
Gunn adjusts his grip, tilts Lindsey's head back just a little, gives a good hard yank that makes Lindsey shudder. And Gunn's gut gets tight and hard, little shocks of something going off under his skin.
"Good little cocksucker, aren't you? Oh, fuck. Look so damn good on your knees. Knew you would. Yeah, that's right, suck it. Like that. Fuck."
Uses the handful of hair he has to pull Lindsey's mouth away from his cock, and Lindsey looks up at him, mouth wet with saliva, cheeks flushed, eyes dilated.
"You like sucking my cock, Lindsey?" Gunn asks.
"Like what you paid me to suck your cock," he says, face tightening, eyes hardening.
Gunn arches a brow. "You gonna tell me that you're not hard as a rock right now? 'Cause I think you are. I think you get off on being down there like a bitch."
Lindsey's lids lower and his mouth curls. "Bastard."
"Yeah, I am. Get off on that, too, don't you?"
Gunn tilts Lindsey's head back some more, reaches down with his free hand and takes hold of his own cock. Grabs Lindsey's hair tighter and slaps his cock against Lindsey's cheek.
Lindsey groans, pulls against the grip Gunn has on his hair, not to get away, but to make it hurt some more.
Gunn feels his lips curl. "Open your mouth."
He guides his dick in, shaking his head when Lindsey tries to blow him. Takes another handful of hair and knows his smile isn't pretty by the way Lindsey almost convulses. Holds Lindsey's head steady and he's a good boy. Hides his teeth with his lips and opens wide so that Gunn can fuck his mouth. Lindsey's tongue works the underside of Gunn's dick as much as it can with how Gunn's moving. And even through the thin latex of the condom, Gunn can feel it.
"Goddamn. Oh, yeah."
Three...four...five thrusts in, and then the sight of Lindsey on his knees, of Gunn's cock sliding in and out of Lindsey's willing and abused mouth, gets to Gunn. Lindsey's talented tongue gives a little swipe, with a little curl, and Gunn is so very gone. He growls or he screams--he's not sure which--and he comes so fucking long and hard that he thinks he should probably give Lindsey a little extra money for it.
Lindsey's still hard when he stands up. Hard, but not waiting, which brings Gunn floating down to himself, coming back to himself. He slides the condom off and tosses it aside. Tucks himself back in and licks his lips.
Lindsey's breath catches, a guttural noise stuck at the back of his throat, and his eyes are wide and bright. Gunn knows what he needs. Something like last night, but not. A little sweeter because that stings so much more than just the bitter on its own.
"You're a pretty little thing," Gunn whispers, his voice tight and raw from the force of his own orgasm. He reaches out, slips a finger into a loop on the waistband of Lindsey's jeans. Tugs him closer. And Lindsey's breathing deep and hard, trying to pretend he isn't, and that denial--that refusal to get hot and bothered--just makes Gunn's limp dick twitch a little.
"Not pretty," Lindsey says, leaning against Gunn, giving a subtle little jerk and grind against Gunn's thigh.
"Pretty," Gunn says, his tone booking no argument, one of legs moving between Lindsey's, his thigh pressing up. And Lindsey rubs against him, his chest falling back and his hands snaking in to hold tight to Gunn's waist.
Lindsey tilts his head, looking at Gunn while he rides his thigh with slinky moves of his hips. His eyes glow some kind of wolf-like silver in the light shining into the alley. Skin riding muscle, flexing as he arches. White tank top bright white against tanned skin. Predator, but not, that's Lindsey.
Maybe later he'll wonder just how this boy got so fucked up, or why Gunn himself gets it without really having words for it. But for now he just smiles, wide and slow.
Gunn moves his finger from Lindsey's belt loop and bunches the material of Lindsey's jeans in his hand, right at the button. Drags Lindsey along his thigh, hard and slow.
"You wanna come, Lindsey?" Gunn asks, and gets a jerky nod in return. Gunn pulls up on the material in his hand, lifting Lindsey off his thigh, and arches his brow. "Now, didn't we go through this last night? Let's try it again. Do you want to come?"
Lindsey practically snarls at him, trying to pull out of his grip, but Gunn's bigger and calmer and he just twists the material tighter in his hand. Watches Lindsey struggle for a moment then takes his leg out from between Lindsey's.
"I'll take that as a no," Gunn says evenly, unwrapping his hands from Lindsey's jeans, pushing the other man back, and folding his arms across his chest.
"You fucking son of a bitch," Lindsey spits at him. But he doesn't leave.
Gunn settles against the wall, decides to burn his clothes when he gets home because he'll never get the slime off, and cocks his leg. Bends it the slightest bit and runs the palm of his hand from his knee, all the way up to the top of his thigh. Back down again. Lindsey starts to move, but Gunn stops him with a glare and an upheld hand.
"This ain't rocket science."
"Yes. I want. To come," Lindsey says, jaw barely moving, his lips pulled tight across his teeth.
Gunn lowers his hand and a second later Lindsey's on him. Hard cock riding along Gunn's thigh, and Gunn feels the heat from it even through two pairs of jeans. Hands clutching at Gunn's shirt. "See, wasn't so hard to get what you needed," he tells Lindsey smugly.
Lindsey's got his head dipped down, face and eyes averted while he gets himself off against Gunn's leg. Gunn lets him go on his own, watches Lindsey's sliding get jerky and uncoordinated, frustration seeping into his every movement.
When Lindsey's grip moves from Gunn's shirt to his waist, tight and bruising, Gunn reaches around and wraps his hand in Lindsey's hair. Tight and hard, bringing Lindsey's head up by little increments, being fought the whole way, Lindsey's hips moving smoother now.
"Ride me harder," Gunn tells him, voice low and dark. Lindsey jerks his head back, eyes sparking silver, teeth bared. Defiance and need making the tendons on his neck stand out. Fuck. Gunn's dick twitches but he ain't seventeen anymore. Which is a shame, because fucking Lindsey again would be damn good right about now.
He reaches with his free hand, this time for Lindsey's ass. Pressing and pushing and pulling Lindsey along his leg with both hands, probably leaving marks in that thin skin. Lindsey bites his lip and Gunn knows it's gotta hurt him, how hard Gunn is making him ride. But he's gasping and when Gunn lets up the pressure a bit, Lindsey moves just as hard.
"You're such a bitch," Gunn whispers and Lindsey goes as wild as he can with the way Gunn's holding him. Jerks and twists and ends up mostly just grinding against Gunn, his head tossed back and his hands almost crushing Gunn's ribs.
Gunn keeps talking. Dirty wrong words that make Lindsey into a tense mess that's straining and reaching. Cruder and nastier; meaner and harsher. And Lindsey's shaking, his dick pressed high up on Gunn's thigh, getting shoved there as Lindsey jerks and then freezes, his face tightening up and his mouth parting.
Gunn lets his grip go slack and Lindsey's hands fall from his waist, his body from Gunn's thigh, and he sinks back and down, landing easily on his ass on the ground. His body is twitching and he looks up at Gunn as he wipes sweaty hair from his forehead. For a second, it's like all that anger ain't there. But then it is and Gunn pushes away from the wall, having to work to get his shirt unstuck.
Thinks about helping Lindsey up, but the other man narrows his eyes, thins his lips, and Gunn just steps around him and walks away.
.End
Disclaimer: The characters/concepts of Angel belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, et al. No infringement is intended and no profit is made. All fic and essay are copyrighted to their authors.