Heeeellooo. It's disclaimer time:: The following is my original work. Wanna play with the characters? Ask first! Enjoy!!
p.s. to any who read NoSAS, I'M SORRY! I do have the rest all planned and the next chapter is half done but the plot bunnies left and ... well no excuses. Plainly, I suck and I'll have to work on that. I adore you! Truly. Alright. Onward!
One Life Stand
Even as 'Closer' seeped from every speaker, I stared flatly at the mirrors behind the bar nursing what would have been an Irish car bomb. Not one interesting person came to the club tonight. How could I have taken so much time to look so nice?
I laughed self-deprecatingly as I remembered preening in front of mirror. Admiring my dark vintage skinny jeans, white skintight tee and my purple faux leather jacket with matching purple Doc Martens, I was sure I would find someone at least to talk to tonight. My last attempted relationship ended the same as all the rest: me asking him to GET THE FUCK OUT.
Everyone's novel at first but after about two days, most are no longer worth humoring. I was tired of it. I was tired of controlling the relationship in every aspect. I was tired of bad sex and bad conversation. Tired even of decent sex followed by shitty conversation. Kind of like the one that brainless pretty boy here was trying to have with me.
I don't know how long I nodded and smiled at the correct moments without even knowing he was there. God, I needed to stop coming to the clubs. I was getting to good at not acknowledging people. But how was I supposed to take a guy seriously who wore head to toe Tripp and couldn't stop flipping his hair. If you get your hair cut that way, leave in your face. Soon he got the hint when he tried to ask my name, and I just continued to nod and smile.
And again I was alone, staring at myself in the mirrors behind the bar. I was cute enough. I had skin of papery paleness, and I kept it that way. Orange is not a skin tone. My wide jaw tapered to a thin chin that accented my small, full lips well, and I had always liked my straight nose and my pale green eyes. My hair was always a nondescript messy style that fell slightly above my eyebrows and to about my neck in the back. I was satisfied with how I looked. Why couldn't I attract a decent guy?
As if on some inverse cue, a muscle-bound guy in a kilt-like monstrosity approached me. He would look 35 on a good day. Today was obviously not a good day.
"Hey there, cutie." Muscle-head whispered in my ear causing him to get far too close. Rubbing his shirtless, hairless bulging chest on my arm, he smirked thinking my eyes were wide with lust. Truly, I was trying not to dry heave.
"I'm Andre," He continued talking and rubbing, "Let's dance." Muscle-head tried to grab my arm succeeding only in spilling my Guinness on his man-skirt.
"Goddamnit!" He shouted.
I smiled fully for the first time that night. "It's okay," I said softly into Muscle-head's ear, "It was ugly anyway."
With that I calmly removed myself from that side of the bar. I felt oddly refreshed as I ordered another Irish car bomb and settled in.
"Make that two," I heard a voice next to me shout. I turned and found myself strangely entranced. He was not handsome by any normal standard, but I just wanted to look at him for long stretches of time. He had curly hair that fell to his shoulders and scruffy beard that covered the whole of his jaw. His mouth was long and full and begging to be bitten.
What? My brain couldn't even believe its own thoughts. I knew I was blushing as I turned away. Out of the corner of my eye I could see he hadn't really looked at me. I ruffled with annoyance. I was far more classically handsome than him. He had to look at me. He wasn't even dressed well! He wore a baggy black Lamb of God tee, black plain pants and tan army boots. Boring! I was sure that's what he wore everyday. Ugh, what was the point of coming to club if you didn't make an event out of it? Why was I even still looking?
I wanted to shout at him. Stop making me look at you! You're barely attractive! You have to hypnotizing me, or something! I could do so much better than you so fucking look at me!
Just as my stare turned into a glare to match my internal fury, he did turn. I gasped. Fucking-shit! Even in the dim light I could tell his eyes were gorgeous. How they stood out under such conditions, I'll never know. All the features of his face were large, but the long thick lashes and a touch of eyeliner surrounding dark blues eyes made them magnificent. He smiled slowly, and I had to check for drool. His skin even looked soft with its rosy-peachy hue and slight sheen of sweat. It stretched over delectably full cheeks. I bet without that beard he'd have the cutest baby face.
What was I doing! I hadn't lusted like this since… since…ever!
"I'm Patto." He smiled again, and it lit up his whole face.
"Patto?" I raised my eyebrow as our drinks arrived. We busied ourselves with dropping shots and chugging chocolately Guinness.
He slammed his mug down a whole ninety seconds before me, grinning proudly. "Patrick O'barr." He explained, "Somehow it's kind of morphed into Patto."
I put my drink down slowly wincing at the taste of curdled Baileys. Coughing I tried to sound sarcastic, "I think I'll just call you Pat." I didn't succeed. Patto laughed heartily at my struggle.
"I'll give you a tip, girly," Patto leaned close to me, "Breathe through your nose, and swallow." From that close, his breath swept over my ear, and I could discern a slight Irish brogue. Both sent a shiver down my spine.
"Um, thanks." I tried to return his full grin but knew mine came off slightly stunned because the bastard just kept laughing. God help me, it sounded sexy as hell.
"So, nameless pretty boy who can't drink, you here alone?" Patto's grin returned full force but held a strange darkness. My hair stood up as I got the distinct whiff of predator.
"Well, Pat," I said making a point to over pronounce the ending 't'. "I refuse to respond to cliché pick up lines."
He laughed again throwing his head back. "Then at least tell me your name." He replied with a softly, more indulgent smile.
"Why should I?" I didn't mean to sound defensive, but I didn't like the way this guy was affecting me. It was dangerous.
"Because," Patto began, grin growing. "I don't want to ask the nameless pretty boy who can't drink to dance."
I scowled at that. "Then don't." I knew I sounded sullen and that to him it was for no reason.
I expected him to fight for it or at least try to convince me, but he didn't. Patto just shrugged his broad shoulders muttering, "Okay," and left.
I felt deflated seeing him walk away. From the fall of his shirt, I knew his body must be thick—not muscular—just a guy with a large frame. The thought of it made my gut tighten. Fuck! I wanted to just leave as the night was proving an utter bust, but Rob Zombie came on, and he never lets me leave.
"Don't lie to yourself. It gave you pleasure." A feminine voice seduced me through the speakers.
I threw myself onto the dance floor. It's almost impossible to explain industrial dance to one who never seen it. Try crossing b-boy locking with punk pogo dance, and you might be close. I hit each beat with a foot kicking, an arm flying, a hip switching. I twirled and hopped all over until I was in the middle of the floor facing Patto who hadn't noticed me. Those of a more masculine variety dance with more ferocity—more like they're about to do some intense karate. For Patto, it was so hot! I was distracted from my own movements, just wanting to watch him stomp and punch and throw fists. I scowled so hard my face hurt. I would make him look at me; I decided at the moment, I would have him. So I threw everything I had into dancing around him until I saw his frenzy slow.
He was watching me! I only danced harder at the knowledge. You will want me! My brain made it my mantra in that moment of desperation. As the final bass chords echoed out, the whole floor stopped and cheered. Sweating and panting, I could give a lackluster clap.
Patto smiled leaning into my ear, "Beautiful." My face heated with a blush though I'm not sure where the spare blood came from, as I was fully hard at the sight and scent of him.
I would have chosen that moment to lure him off the dance floor, but Oomph! stood in my way. No can refuse the pounding beat of 'Augen Auf!'. I claimed to have danced hard to Zombie. It's nothing like dancing to Oomph! The song demanded every muscle and limb to be used past their breaking points. Patto and I threw ourselves around like perfect lovers—touching at times and giving space at others. We held eyes almost the whole and always broke away in unison. If the Augen Auf! hadn't taken me over, I sure would have freaked out, but I didn't, which was good because I was having such fun.
As the song finally ended, I dropped my weight onto Patto euphoric with the complete muscle pain I was feeling. Nothing was better than dancing to exhaustion. Patto put his arm around my waist and led me to the back deck grinning. In the early spring of Philadelphia, the air stood cool and still but a good leap away from the cold of winter. Patto continued to smile as he offered me a cigarette. My answering grin dropped as I took one.
What the fuck was I doing!? Why was I going after this grinning imbecile!?
Ignore the eyes and the strange lust for his body and ignore reddish tint you see in his hair thanks to the clearer light. I returned to feigning indifference. Lighting my cigarette with a match from my pocket—which I was surprised to find dry and usable—I blew my smoke in the opposite direction turning away slightly.
I heard Patto sigh with what I assumed to annoyance and waited for some attempt at conversation. Instead, I heard footsteps…going away! I turned quickly to see Patto leaving the club out the back door. He can't be leaving! He didn't try to hit on me again!
Patto waved to a few of the security guards and left. Before I could stop myself, I was running after him.
"Where are you going?" I shouted still half a block behind him.
"Home." He answered though I barely heard.
"Wait!" I screamed. I admit it was a scream but only because I was so fucking breathless. "Please, wait!"
Patto stopped in his tracks giving me a chance to catch. Though when I did, I wasn't sure why I had followed. "Uh," I stuttered. "Let's go…um, dance. There's sure to be another good song on." It was lame and I knew it, but I didn't know what else I could say.
"No." Patto said any trace of grinning gone from that overbearing face. Something in me that had loosened during dancing tightened again at the sight. I shifted on my toes, not willing to meet those gorgeous eyes.
"Come on, Pat," I laughed nervously, "Let's just go have another drink."
"No," He took a menacing step towards me and I retreated. "Do you want me, or not?"
I know my eyes widened about an inch. "What?" The nervous laughter got louder as I realized we were in an alley beside the club. No way to gracefully leave. "What? I—no. Of course—I…well."
Before I knew it, two hands were on my shoulders squeezing the bones together. "Do you want me, or not?"
I just stared, stunned. The pain shooting to my groin and spine in a way I'd never felt. I gasped, mouth open, eyes wide—I'm sure I made quite a picture.
"You look at me like that, and I think 'yeah, this little slut wants me,'" Patto gritted out giving me shake that ended me with hitting the wall. I gasped again louder—not from the treatment but from spike of arousal being called a slut. Patto continued as though my reactions were meaningless. "Then you scamper away like some stupid bitch or you try to blow me off. My life isn't contingent on your fucking approval. If you want it—want me—then follow. If not, fuck off." With that departing blow, he threw me against the alley wall and marched away. I shook. From head to toe, I shook with frantic lust. I had never felt so desirable as being pinned up against the wall by the large bastard. Carefully I stepped away from it and took the trembling steps to follow Patto. I tried to keep my head clear as I followed him. It was at least ten blocks away, but I couldn't think. If I did, I would back out. I would have ran in the other direction because most of me balked at the idea of such treatment, but the rest leaped and soared at the thought of feeling that much.
Everyone—being the general media and average populace—always raved about sex. How great it was, how often it should be had and how and where and with whom. I never understood their fascination until about five minutes ago. Sex never felt earth shattering. Orgasms never actually left me boneless and satiated. Afterwards I would only want a shower and to be alone. But if Patto could make me feel like…that from touching me then…then…
Okay! Thought ending time! That's enough. I looked up and saw him waiting for me at a crosswalk. I jogged to him.
As I reached him, he said tightly, "My house is full of people. We're heading to yours." Before I could even question that, he continued tersely, "Which way?" It sounded way more like a command than a request. Again I shivered but refused to think on it.
Without a word, I set out across the street noticing that we were only two blocks from my place. We didn't exchange any more words as we walked, rode the elevator to the fifth floor and entered my apartment.
It was a tiny place—only a kitchenette/living room/dining area with a bathroom off the left and a hallway to my bedroom. I opened my mouth to apologize for its dwarfishness when I found my body being used to shut the door. The impact seemed to reverberate through my soul. I groaned loudly and found a mouth on mine. My hand flew up to his hair twining into the locks as he sucked my bottom lip in between his teeth.
My hands tightened at the feel pulling that thick hair. Patto threw his head back, eyes rolling back and let out a growl at my actions. The sound made me harder then I thought possible.
"Oh God," I moaned in response before I felt teeth sinking into my collarbone. I wanted him. I wanted him more than I could understand. I felt control slipping away. With each scream, each writhing moan, each shuddering sigh, I gave it all to Patto who wielded with such wildness that I almost feared for myself.
Suddenly—though I'm sure it wasn't sudden, but as I said, I was practically unconscious with desire—I was naked on my bed with Patto biting my hips. I gripped at my blankets thrusting my hips upward, and I begged. I begged louder and harder than anyone ever should.
"Fuck! Pat, please…pleeeaasse. Oh God. Oh fucking sh—uhhh!" With each bite, my brain wiped itself clean. The pain hit like electricity while the ebbing sting rubbed me like feathers on my insides. I couldn't breathe, and through it all, Patto only responded with that laugh. That maddening powerful laugh said I am know what you want. I control it. You will have it when I say.
Finally he actually spoke, "Please, what, my dear?" Patto sat back from me completely. Before I drowned in feeling him everywhere, now I drowned in the echoes of him. The soft sting of teeth and nails rang from my neck to my calves. With every breath, my mind would find a new spot to focus on. How long had I laid here wanton letting him just chew on me?
Patto's large hand gripped my chin fingers pressing along the bone. My brain felt incredibly lucid and aroused as he slowly turned my head forward to face him. His eyes were dark green now. I moaned unbidden, and he smiled wolfishly.
"Please, what?" He repeated.
I blinked twice before commencing with the begging. "Please, touch me. Please suck me. Please, I'm so hard. Please, touch me."
The grin only grew. I trembled at it. "I'm sorry. Sluts don't get touched. They come when they're told, and that's only when there's a cock in them. Is that clear?"
I thought he had stunned me before, but this. The part of me that had been against coming here was screaming to leave. The rest was screaming to be brutally fucked by this man who was all but abusing me. I couldn't understand where this was coming from. I couldn't—
A slap resonated across my face, and it was immediately snatched back to the front. "Is that clear?" Patto growled in my face.
I whimpered. "Yes."
"Do you want a cock in you?" Patto said more calmly with the predatory grin spread across his face.
"Oh God, yes. Yes, please. I—"
"Shut up." He said flatly smirking. I did. His tone alone kept me stiff.
Patto stepped off the bed and took off his clothes. I saw that I was only slightly off about his body. He had a belly—not a big one that hung down or pushed out, it was just there. His legs were thick and muscular though, and his cock was perfect. I knew I was drooling at that point. It wasn't a monster or anything, but it was thick, seven inches long and at least two inches wide.
I scrambled to the edge of the bed and open my mouth only to hear that laugh.
"You are a little slut, aren't you?" Patto mocked as I whimpered, desire annihilating any dignity I once had. "None of that for you tonight." He slapped my face again lightly before grabbing my legs and yanking them up and off the bed. Patto quickly spit on two fingers and began working them into me. It hurt but I wanted more. My body didn't know what it wanted. My ass clenched and released over and over. I rolled my hips downward as I felt a third finger enter but arched away as three curled to slam into my prostate. My eyes rolled back, and I screamed his name. The begging started again. I asked him to stop, to start, to slow down. I wanted more, I wanted less, I wanted everything. He never gave it to me. Patto continued bruising my insides with his fingers until I felt my balls tighten. Then his fingers were gone, and I was thoroughly disoriented. Blearily, I looked up to find him squirting lube on his perfect dick. I groaned head falling back as his slippery fingers reentered me.
Then there was a broad head at my entrance. I would have bit my lip but Patto leaned down from between my legs and bit it for me as he entered slowly. Stinging pain shot through me. He hadn't fully prepared me. He hadn't on purpose. With most, that would have been the end. I couldn't take this. I couldn't be taken like this. But as his head pushed past my ring of muscle I gulped for air. It felt so good. He felt so good. His dick was perfect. So I told him.
"Oh, God. Oh shit. Your dick feels so fucking good. Your dick is so perfect." I sobbed trying to rotate my hips against the weight of him pinning me down.
"But, baby," He smirked, "I haven't done anything yet."
With that, the planted his forearms on either side of my head and began pounding away in deep controlled thrusts that would have sent me flying forward if his whole torso wasn't pressed to mine. I couldn't choose what to focus on, what felt better. The feel of the round, slightly furred ribcage pressing me into the mattress or that gorgeous dick plowing me. Instead of choosing, I just screamed. I cursed and praised him in every way I could. He was a god, a demon. I would kill if he didn't go faster, but like before, Patto was on his own course.
He began to grind and rotate his hips at all different angles causing that delectable cock to rasp and stretch parts of me I'd never known. It hurt so perfectly. I writhed not knowing if I wanted more or less. As the desire in me started to rise, he pulled back and slowed. I cried out. He thrusts turned slow and shallow and as I opened my eyes I saw why. Patto was close. His eyes were clenched, and his cheeks were red. I smiled. I would have him.
"Patto," I whined. His eyes shot open, but he just growled at me. "Fuck me," I simpered in the softest voice possible, "Please, fuck me. You feel so good. You fuck me so good, Plea—ahh."
He growled loudly in response and began fucking me in the wildest way possible. Patto's two large hands placed themselves on my rib cage. All his weight seemed to be pushed there, as he seemed to just throw my body at the speed he wanted instead of thrusting. It felt amazing. I screamed and screamed. I knew that any sleeping neighbors would be bitching me out in the morning, but I couldn't care. I was having the best sex of my twenty-three years of life, and the world should know.
The tightening began again at base of my neck and rode slowly down my spine as Patto shouted and grunted above me. Even in his furious fucking, he was so…hot. No, fuck that, he was beautiful—large and powerful and controlling. I didn't know if I could hold it in much longer with a man like that fucking me. He bent over slowly, his movements becoming more and more jagged, and he bit me harder than before. I loved it. Through my own screeching moan, I barely heard him.
"Come," Patto growled his brogue into my bruised, bloodied skin, "Come."
Blood roared into my ears. I shot hot come all over our chests, and my head began to swim. I felt the equal warmth fill me making the aftershocks hit harder. I barely had the wherewithal to grab tissues for wiping off. I sagged onto the mattress and felt a thick body spoon behind mine. I smiled tiredly. He felt like a warm, soft wall behind me. I fell asleep feeling safe and…loved.
I woke to an empty bed though. Turning over I hoped to drag that big body back to my smaller one as I had throughout the night, but my arm hit mattress and I started up. Jolted, I looked frantically around my room.
No, no, no! My brain yelled. I can't lose that. Not him. I actually want him around. I leaped out of bed and ran into the living room to find Patto putting his shoes on.
"What?" I panted dazedly. "Why? Where are you going?"
"Home." He said darkly without looking at me.
"What? Why?" I felt like a broken record.
"Bye." Patto reached around me to his dark brown hoodie that was draped over the arm of the chair. It had a moose on the front in a golden shade. It was too cute. Wait, what did he say?
"No!" I shouted trying to get between him and the door.
"Yes." Patto said calmly in his commanding voice.
"No," I whimpered my cock twitching again at the sound.
"Move." He was angered by my response. How was I supposed to help it?
"Stop with the fucking one word responses," I put my hands on my hips. "Why the fuck are you leaving?"
"Because I'm sure that you don't want me here." Patto looked increasingly tired.
"Wha—After the night we had? Why would I ever let you leave?" I smirked trying to lighten the mood.
The skin around Patto's mouth tightened as he ran an annoyed hand through his thoroughly mussed hair. "Look, I'm going. I know your deal. I'm not trying to be here on night four when you're ready to kick me out."
"What?" That was all I could say to this guy, obviously.
Patto laughed, but it wasn't the sexy, powerful laugh. It was a sad laugh, full of rejection and regret. "I said I know your deal. I go to that club as much as you. I see you there all the time. I've watched you leave with dozens of guys and listened to them blubbering at the bar two to four nights later."
I gaped at Patto. Had I really been that systematic? I stumbled over to the couch and flopped on to it.
Before any reaction could gather, Patto kneeled in front of me and continued, "Plus I know you only had sex with me because you were drunk."
"No, I—" I began knowing I could fully refute that one. The Irish car bomb we shared was the first drink I had that night.
But Patto just held up his hand, "I saw you spill your drink on the muscle head in the skirt and reject that equally well-dressed younger guy. I thought that if you were drunk enough to reject those two than maybe you'd fuck a guy who could make you laugh. I thought I'd have to treat you normal and gentle, but then you...," Patto shook his head as if to dispel the images of the prior night. Don't dispel them, I thought, savor them. We're beautiful together.
But Patto just kept on, "It doesn't matter. It was great unlike what those guys said. So I'll take it as a blessing and leave. I…last night was…something. Something more than I expected so I don't want to be around when you're tired of me. Goodbye, baby." Patto stood and kissed my forehead. Even that set tingles down my spine. I wanted this man still and not just sexually.
"Stay." I said forcefully. It seemed to work because Patto halted and turned.
"Why? I don't handle rejection well." He responded sadly
"I like you."
Patto laughed again. This time it echoed sardonically through my heart. "Bet you said that—"
"No!" I stood up, "I never told any of the others that. Sex with them didn't…it didn't…feel like anything. Stay."
Again Patto's hand ran through his hair. "Sex can't build a re…it can't build anything." He turned back towards to the door.
"Patto, no! It wasn't just that. I couldn't talk to them…about anything…and…and I had to control everything. I'm tired of being in control." I was shouting at that point with pure anguish.
Patto laughed his good laugh then—the one I first heard in the bar, the one full of joy and irony. "I can tell." I smiled.
"Stay." I pleaded walking to his side and grabbing his hand.
"I don't even know your name." He laughed, "I had sex with the nameless pretty boy who can't drink and has an endless stream of one night stands." Patto raised his hand and grazed it down my cheek. "Who are you?"
I had to smile softly. "I'm Jesse Wedek. I'm a twenty-three year old costume designer who thinks he's ready for a one life stand."
And with that I saw the first true big smile spread across Patric O'barr's face. I knew it to be the first of many.
Hope you enjoyed my one shot! Review and I might write some more with these characters or with new ones, your choice. 3
Songs referenced:
-"Closer" by NIN
-"Demonoid Phenomenon" by Rob Zombie
-"Augen Auf!" by Oomph!