|Cri de Coeur: Encore
Author: Luci-chan's Lunchbox Of Doom PM
[WIP] Years ago Tom and Harold fell in love. Now it seems like they’ve been given a second chance. The only problem? Tom’s fiancé. [Slash/Yaoi/MxM themes]Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 9 - Words: 11,467 - Reviews: 86 - Favs: 11 - Follows: 6 - Updated: 07-12-06 - Published: 06-30-06 - id: 2203081
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Cri de Coeur: Encore
Chapter Nine: I Know How To Spell 'Banana', I Just Don't Know When To Stop
I was super pissed at Tom, of course, but part of me kind of understood it. It had been to long. He had fallen out of love with me and in love with someone else.
I needed a drink. I went down the street to the absolute best bar in the city, Big Ben's.
That name was no exaggeration. Ben was the owner, bartender, and bouncer all rolled into one. And he was indeed the size of three individual men in one. He was rude and he was loud. He had a beard to rival Rubeus Hagrid and very large hands.
"What'll it be?" he asked. I shrugged. He let out an irritated sound and poured me a shot of tequila.
"You know I hate this shit," I said. Yeah, I had only been in the town for a week and already the bartender knew my alcoholic preferences. What does that tell you about my visit?
"Yeah, but you look like you need to get real drunk real fast."
I listened to the bartender's exchange with the young man with amused interest. The man barely looked old enough to drink, yet he was obviously a regular in the grimy bar.
"I'll take a shot, Ben," I said. I was a mess. I hated flying. I had come home a day early and so Tom hadn't come to meet me. I was planning on surprising him.
My nerves were shot, though. As I said, I hated flying. It would be the death of me, I swear. I guess in reality the plane probably would not crash, but I bet that's what they were thinking on 9-11, too.
Ben poured me a shot and I downed it, wincing as the harsh liquid burned my throat. The young man was now looking at me with some sort of interest. After a moment he smiled and slid over two barstools to sit beside me.
He was wearing tight blue jeans and an even tighter Heroin/Heroine tee shirt. His blonde hair fell in his amber eyes and he did indeed look a little run down, but nice-looking nonetheless. Something about him seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place what it was.
"Hello," he purred. "What's your name?"
"Nathan," I said. "Nathan Rhodes."
I saw something like amusement glint in his eyes but it was gone after a moment to be replaced by his initial seductive smile.
"That's a nice name," he said sweetly. Before I could ask his name he turned back to the bartender. "Hey Ben, two more shots," he said. Ben nodded and set the drinks in front us. The young man handed one to me and then picked up the other one himself.
"Bottoms up," he said, swallowing the alcohol in one drink. I had to give him credit, he was clearly no novice at drinking, even if he didn't like tequila. While it set my throat on fire he didn't even flinch.
"So, what do you do, Nathan Rhodes," he purred my name and it sent chills down my spine.
"I um… I have a bookstore with my fiancé," I said. Yes, that's it. Must remember Tom. He pouted his full lips.
"Oh poo," he said. "I guess I'm just wasting my time, then."
"Um… yeah," I said. He smiled.
"Well then, let me buy you a drink to apologize for hitting on you, no strings attached," he said.
Of course I knew who he was. That damned photo was imprinted in my mind. And while I totally understood that Tom and I had drifted apart, that didn't stop me from wanting to tear their relationship apart.
But it was clear that to do that, I would have to get Nathan Rhodes very, very drunk. He had by this time had two shots of tequila and a beer. He was a big guy, but he obviously didn't hold his alcohol very well, and he was already pretty drunk. I smirked. This would be easier than I thought.
"I'd better be getting home," he said after another hour and four more beers.
"You are way to drunk to drive," I said, sounding perfectly concerned. Hell, he could drive off a cliff for all I cared, but my plan for him was so much more entertaining than that. "Hey, I have an idea. I'm staying at the Ramada Inn up the road. Why don't you come with me and just stay there until you sober up a bit?" I asked. He nodded.
"You're right," he said, getting off of the barstool. "I wouldn't want to get in an accident," he said. At that moment he lost his footing and fell smack on the floor.
"C'mon, let's get you out of here before you hurt yourself," I said. It was taking all I had to stay good-natured. I hated this bastard.
I walked with him up the street and led him to my room at the hotel. Once we were inside I said, "Go ahead and lay down. You're obviously having trouble standing." It was the truth. He was bobbing and weaving all over the place. He went and laid on the bed. I smiled. This was too easy.
I walked over and crawled onto the bed beside him. He looked at me through alcohol-clouded eyes as I leaned down and brushed my lips against his. Even in his drunken state he had the sense to draw back.
"I have a fiancé," he said quietly.
"Yeah, but he's not here," I said between kisses on his neck. "And he doesn't have to know. It can be just between us." He nodded and I smiled. This was too easy. I kissed him on the lips again and this time he was much more cooperative. I nipped gently on his bottom lip and he opened his mouth. I slid my tongue in and began a duel for dominance. I let him win and flipped us over so that he could come to a rest on top of me. Our tongues continued their frenzied dance and I broke it only to pull his shirt over his head before quickly ridding myself of my own and locking my lips with his again.
He pulled his body away from mine to quickly shuck his pants and boxers. He fumbled for a moment with the button and zipper of mine and when he finally managed to undo them I raised my hips to allow him to slide them off, which had the added benefit of brushing my partially-erect member against his own hard cock. He gasped into my mouth and I smirked.
"You like that?" I asked. He made a confirming sound and I thrust my groin up to his again. His skin was hot against mine and I wrapped my legs around him, flipping over with him so that I was now straddling him. I reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a lubricated condom. I ripped open the package and rolled it onto his swollen cock before poising myself over it and easing down onto him.
My body stretched to allow the intrusion, but Nathan was extremely well endowed (he made Tom look like a prepubescent teen) and it hurt terribly. I stopped for a moment to allow just enough pain to subside before I began to ride him, raising up and down on his cock, pulling pleasured moans from the man beneath me. It hurt so badly that I felt almost no pleasure. That wasn't why I was doing this anyway. But that didn't change the fact that I was painfully hard and I reached down, wrapping my hand around my own erection and jerking myself off.
I finally reached an unsatisfactory climax, taking Nathan with me.
"T-Tom!" he called out.
I pulled my hand back and slapped him hard, smirking.
"You idiot," I said. "My name is Harold."
Harold. I know that name. And I could definitely place him after that.
Harold Crass. Tom's ex.
That realization sobered me instantly.
How was I going to explain this?
AN: I don't know if that was predictable or not but it's three in the morning so I don't really care.
Anywho, yeah, please review!
♥'s and X-Rated Thoughts—Luci-chan