Broken Glass
Kel kept his eyes peeled for a liquor store, but ironically the first one he found was next door to the run down motel he was following his next conquest into. Kelly wasn't surprised that the man hadn't seen the place - there was clearly something wrong with his eyes, what with all the fox references and meaningful looks. Kel pulled into the motel's parking lot, and parked next to the man's truck. He got out and headed to the store without looking at the tall man. They'd see plenty enough of each other in the next fifteen minutes or so. But first, Kel had a more pressing need at hand. He was parched and on edge. He didn't need much, just a quick sip to ease his thirst. A single bottle of cheap wine would do the trick.
The clerk eyed Kel suspiciously as soon as he entered the store, though Kel didn't have the faintest clue why. It couldn't have been that he looked too young to be zeroing in on the wine section. He was terribly scruffy, having properly shaved maybe twice since everything went to shit. Then Kel laughed at himself - that was probably exactly why the clerk was staring. The old man from last Saturday night had been a stupid old fool. This clerk was a suspicious young shopkeep, and was probably worried Kel would take off with something expensive. No chance of that, my friend. He glanced up at the window that faced the motel next door. Even if I was inclined to thievery, I'd be too easy to find.
Funny how he couldn't possibly bring himself to commit petty theft, but the thought that he'd let a chance to end a terrible man slip away left him so unsettled, so dissatisfied. It didn't make sense - he was a doctor, all he'd done his whole life was in preparation for helping the sick, to snatch people from the claws of death whenever he could. Why throw it all away for Stan?
Because he was a doctor. He saved lives. Who knew how many lives he was ruining by letting-
"Hey! You have to pay for that!"
Kel jumped. The store clerk was no longer safely behind the counter, but was standing a few feet away from him, glaring menacingly. Why? What? He put the bottle to his lips and stopped - when had he opened the wine bottle? Some of it was already gone. How long had he been standing there, feeling sorry for himself because he'd let Dix talk him out of doing wrong?
He set the wine bottle down and pulled out his wallet. The clerk flinched at first, ready to defend himself, but upon seeing Kel only meant to pay properly, he held a waiting hand out. Kel fumbled with the wallet for a minute, then held the wallet out to the man. "Take enough for two," he said, and grabbed a second bottle for the road.
The clerk took a few bills from the wallet and tossed it to Kel's feet. "Don't come back in here," the clerk said sharply.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Kel said, and made his way to the door.
He stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, but he kept his feet under him, and made it properly to the motel parking lot in one piece. The tall stranger was leaning against his truck-bed, and seemed mildly alarmed by Kel's appearance. Nothing looks the same in the light, my friend. Kel tossed his unopened bottle in the trunk of his own car, then turned to his latest conquest. "Lead the way."
The man looked at the bottle in Kel's hand, but he turned and walked to a corner room whose door faced the back of the parking lot. They'd be right on top of the sidewalk, where any passersby could hear what went on inside if they didn't run past the window. Kel wasn't too sure he liked that. But he'd learned his lesson quite well with Scott the Salesman - no more taking the assholes back to his own room. If someone out there got uncomfortable with the sound of two grown men doing hard labor, well... they ought to mind their own damned business.
The moment the door was shut, Kel was on top of the other man. He grabbed a handful of shirt in each hand and shoved the man towards the nearest free wall - not an easy task, since the man was almost a head taller than Kel, and Kelly wasn't exactly ready to let go of his wine bottle. But he got the man pinned to the wall, and, after another swig of liquid courage, he managed to get his hands down to rip the man's jeans open.
"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart," the man said, and grabbed Kel's wrists. It was the same sharp, sudden movement he'd made in the bar, and Kel froze again, just as he had in the bar. Then he tried to pull away, but the man held fast. "It's alright, it's okay," the man was saying, cooing like Kel was a child. Kel was not a child, and it was not alright. "Look at me, look at me, turn those pretty blue eyes up to me, foxy."
Kel stopped struggling and, against his better judgment, lifted his lids enough to look at the man through the fringe of his lashes. The man gave him that same dazed, half drugged look he'd given him in the strange little carriage shaped booth not half an hour ago, the same dazed look he'd given Kel the night before, when he stopped Kel in his tracks to give him a line. Kel steeled himself against whatever new line the man was getting ready to feed him this time.
"You don't have to hold me down. I'll do anything you want. I'll get down on my knees if that's where you want me."
It wasn't the sort of line Kel was expecting. It was effective. Kel found himself relaxing against his will. "What if all I want is to hold you down?"
The man hesitated. Then he said, quietly, "Is that the way this works?"
"It's the way I work."
The man looked thoughtfully at Kel's face. "I thought you were supposed to accommodate me."
"What in the world gave you that idea?"
The man hesitated again, for much longer. "Well, I mean... to put it delicately... I'm the customer... right?"
Customer? Customer?! Kel tried to struggle against the man's iron grip, but he couldn't budge him. "That's the third time somebody's called me a whore. I like it less and less every time I hear it."
The man blinked. "You're not a prostitute?"
"No!"
The man's confusion only seemed to deepen. "Well then, what was that other guy-"
"That other guy was an asshole!"
The man smiled then, and laughed a little. "Well, yeah, he was that." He began to rub little circles into Kel's wrists with the pads of his thumbs, but the grip didn't loosen. "But that doesn't mean you get to take it out on me."
Sudden rage washed over Kel like a tsunami. He tried desperately to jerk out of the stranger's hands, which clamped harder in response to his wild tugging. "Let go!"
"Nuh-uh. Not yet."
"Let! Go!"
"Not until I'm sure you won't hurt me, foxy."
Kel stopped struggling then, and looked at the stranger in surprise. "What?"
The man was still smiling faintly at him, and the grip loosened slightly, not quite the way it had been when he was rubbing little circles into his wrists, but certainly not the circulation choking grip he'd had a moment ago. "Don't hurt me."
"I wasn't gonna-"
"You already slammed my head against the wall, foxy."
Kel steeled himself against the automatic apology bubbling up inside him, and refused to give it air. He was done with being manipulated and guilt tripped by great, big charming assholes with sincere eyes and sweet smiles. "You don't seem to be suffering much."
"Well, my stiffy is suffering a little."
Kel laughed, despite himself. "I can bring it back, no problem."
"Oh, I bet you can, fox."
"Then let go." The stranger made no move to release his wrists. Kel swallowed down his irritation and tried smiling. "C'mon," he said as sweetly as he could. "Let me go, so I can show you. I can make it real good."
The man looked at Kel for a second longer, before he finally released Kel's arms with agonizing slowness. The moment Kel's hands were free, he went for the man's pants, fully intending to wrench his erection from his clothing.
A pair of large, strong hands gripped Kel's shoulders and held him at bay. "Take it easy, now! Where's the fire?"
Kel growled. "It's in me."
"Okay. You want me to put it out?"
"Yes! No! I want to put it out myself."
The man pulled him close, pressing their bodies so close together that Kel could feel the other man's warmth through his clothes. "Can't we put it out together?"
Kel's brain stalled out as the man's hands began to rub slow, soothing circles on his back. He was tense and tied up all over, and he felt a bouncing pressure everywhere the man's flat, wide palms roved. Stan used to pet his back, in the days when they still touched each other, with long even strokes, like he was painting a wall. This was different. This was series of swirls and sweeps, small circles, great long arcs, punctuated by a light scritching and gripping motion every so often. He found himself relaxing, almost against his will, and certainly against his better judgment.
The stranger seemed to relax too, and was back to giving him that drowsy look. Bedroom eyes. That's what what he had, honest to God bedroom eyes. They were dark and smoky and soft and positively mesmerizing, and Kel knew if he didn't look away that instant, if he didn't find something, anything, else to think about, that he'd fall into oblivion in those eyes.
"Hmmmmmmm." The man leaned in closer, like he didn't want to lose Kel's eyes, like he knew Kel was trying to save himself. The stranger's mouth brushed against Kel's neck, sending a shiver down his spine, and a thrilling burst of warmth right down to his suddenly very heavy balls. Without meaning to, Kel purred back, and ground himself against the stranger's long, hard body.
"The bed's behind you," the stranger said. His voice was warm and soft and low and damp in Kel's ear. It was damn near enough to make him burst right there where they leaned against the wall. "Lay me down," the stranger said, still whispering in Kel's ear.
Kel's legs turned to pudding, and only the stranger's long, strong arms kept him from oozing to the floor. He let himself be dragged backwards to the bed, and sat there, panting and trying to figure out how exactly he hoped to lay someone down when he couldn't even figure out his own motor skills.
The stranger chuckled quietly at Kel's obvious discombobulation as he began to disrobe. His movements were slow and deliberate, and gave him the air of a peep show. He didn't actually take anything off until everything was completely unfastened, unbuttoned, unzipped. Then, with agonizing slowness, the clothing began to peel off, layer by layer.
Kel struggled to rip off his own pants, but the stranger shook his head and gently took Kel's hands away, and laid them on the bed, at his sides. "Let me help you." The stranger knelt between Kel's knees and unzipped his fly, then worked warm fingers into the waistband. "Lift?" It took Kel a minute to process the request, but he leaned back and lifted his hips from the bed, and gasped as the pants came ripping off his thighs, and were unpeeled over his feet like his legs were a pair of bananas. The inside out slacks flew across the room, and landed in a heap in a corner far from the door. The stranger growled and shoved Kel's thighs open, apparently appreciating the fact that Kel hadn't bothered with boxers or briefs that morning. He licked a long stripe inside Kel's thigh, from knee almost all the way up to his groin. Then the stranger pulled away with an evil little laugh, stood up, and crawled onto the bed, right over Kelly's body. He knelt on all fours and pressed Kel into the mattress with the force of his gaze. "Where do you want me now, foxy?"
Kel tugged at the front of his own shirt helplessly. The stranger was tall and lean, and his muscles rippled with every breath he took. His skin looked impossibly smooth, and his chest was covered in a soft pelt of beautiful dark hair, just like the dark hair that fell over his dark, hypnotic eyes. Kel wanted to rub himself all over that smooth skin, the softly furred chest, wanted to press himself into the stranger until he was fully spent. But all he could manage was a soft whine while he tugged uselessly at his lapels.
The stranger watched Kel's hands for a little while before finally leaning to the side, so that, with nerve grinding slowness, he could unbutton Kel's shirt. When it was fully open, and Kel lay there spread and vulnerable, the stranger skittered away across the bed. "Come get me," he said.
Kel couldn't have resisted the command if his life depended on it. He found himself being pulled into the stranger's warm, easy embrace like a puppet on a string. When he fell into the other man's arms, Kel found he couldn't be bothered to resent the man's refusal to fully yield. He was too busy drowning in need - a need to put his hands, his mouth, his face all over this infuriatingly alluring stranger.
They caught each other up in the thin cold sheets, and dissolved into silly laughter as they became entangled in the sheets and each other. The stranger's body was hot and heavy and strong, and Kel grappled with his sweat soaked skin, trying to pull the other down on himself.
The stranger was slow to catch on, but when he did, he obliged easily, allowing himself to be dragged and pushed and prodded into whatever position suited Kel's rapidly growing need. Soon, Kel couldn't hide his anxious desire, and the stranger began to whispering in his ear. The words started off like any other meaningless babble of sweet nothings, but as Kelly's body began to crest that mountain, the soft spoken stranger began to fill his ear with the most delicious filth Kel had ever heard.
Before long, a deep, guttural moan began to fill the room, pulsing in time with the stranger's long, slick strokes. The moan turned to a strangled cry, and as his throat began to burn, Kel realized, belatedly, that the sound was coming from him. He tried to stop, but the stranger leaned in closer. "Don't you dare fucking stop, you delicious little slut, let me hear it. I wanna hear your body sing."
Kel resisted, but the litany of dirty talk went on, and somewhere deep inside him a spark snapped, and ignition commenced and then Kelly couldn't stop the explosion if he tried.
He came back to himself a moment later, completely exhausted, and dying of thirst. The stranger lay heavily across him, obviously well satiated, and held him in place, away from his abandoned wine bottle. The stranger looked peaceful. Happy.
Shit.
Kel hadn't meant for that to happen. The most he'd wanted the other man to feel was that he'd gotten his rocks appropriately off for whatever his little celebration was supposed to be. He wasn't supposed to be connecting with some random asshole who thought he knew best how to talk to Kelly. He hadn't meant to give up his control - certainly not so completely.
Panic and rage fueled a strength he'd thought was completely depleted, and with a growl, he hefted the stranger off himself. He scrambled away from the bed while the stranger was still airborne and skittered across the room to the pile of discarded clothes. Blood rushed to Kel's head, and a thundering tide in his ears drowned out all the stranger's protests at the sudden change in mood. He snatched his bottle on his way to the clothing, scooped up the whole lot in his arms, and ran to the bathroom, nearly tripping over a dragging pair of pants. He turned and slammed the door just as the stranger reached the threshold, and turned the lock on the knob when the pounding started.
He shook for a minute, surprised himself by the violent turn things had suddenly taken. Then he fortified himself with liquid courage, managed to detangle his pants from the blob of clothing, fished out his shirt and tie, and set about dressing as quickly as he could.
Once satisfied that he was covered enough to go out in public, Kel gathered the rest of the clothing to use as a makeshift shield. The pounding had stopped, but he didn't harbor any illusions about the stranger's whereabouts or intentions. He turned the lock slowly, wincing as it clicked over, and then threw the door open and ran for the exit.
The stranger was a blur of flesh as Kel ran by, sitting on the far end of the bed, and made no real move for Kel. Still, Kel tossed the man's clothes in the room as he burst out into the parking lot. He skidded on the pebbles on the poorly paved tarmac, before landing bodily against his car. He yanked the door open and threw himself inside before the stranger appeared in the doorway, wearing only his jeans. Kel's hand shook as he shoved the key into the ignition, but after a few heart hammering seconds, he finally got the engine turned over. He threw the car into gear, and peeled out of the lot like the Devil himself was on his tail.