Scout's Ma

OMFGHSJHKJJ!!!!1

Something THAT.IS.HET!!!!!!!1! (I know, right? Who knew we [or in this case, I] had it in us?)

I actually dreamt this story--and I mean, I dreamt that I was sitting at the laptop typing it up, so some of the words are actually from my dream. Weird, right? Anyway. I obviously couldn't post this on Y! but, here's a super-short ficlet.


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Scout’s ma sat up. It was still dim in the room she woke in, but she could tell by the light coming through the holes in the thick curtains that it was morning. “Charlie,” she mumbled sleepily, “you’d better be up!” Charlie was the only one of Scout’s brothers who still lived at home, and he was holding down a job—barely. She was getting pretty darn sick of riding his ass to get him up in the mornings.

She blinked. Why couldn’t she see out of one eye? She rubbed at it and her fingers found rough fabric. An eye patch? Why on earth? The strap holding it on was quite loose, obviously made for a larger head than her own, and she was surprised that it was staying on at all. A little more awake now, she rolled over to assess the situation. There was a man in the bed, and it wasn’t her bed. Hardly anything new, but she knew this man. “Demoman?” she asked, softly.

Sleepy rumbling was her only reply.

Now she remembered—damn, but that scrumpy, or whatever he’d called it, packed a punch! She’d drunk plenty when she was younger—much younger, before she’d had her boys—and she had the odd drink now and then, now that her boys were (mostly) out of the house, but she certainly wasn’t prepared for that stuff. Her head was, mercifully, pain-free. She moved a bit more—her stomach seemed to be alright, too. Well, that was something, anyway. Her hands moved automatically to her hair, making sure her coiffure was still more or less intact (bless Scout. He could be a  crazy little shit, to be sure, but the money he sent home sure helped make Mommy’s life more comfortable).

Hair in place, she started looking around for clothing. There were some underwear. She started pulling them on, frowning a little—maybe the scrumpy had affected her more than she had thought? These were clearly women’s panties, so they must be hers, but they were much, much too large (every ounce of her baby weight had been lost after Scout, thank-you-very-much). She looked over her shoulder at Demoman, who was making little grumbly noises and might be waking up. She raised an eyebrow, looking from the size of his waist to the size of the panties. Yep. She’d just slept with another crossdresser. 

Medgineer

“Ah…Danke, Herr Engineer. Yes, this is very interesting…” The BLU Medic rolled his eyes when he was certain that his team’s Engineer wasn’t watching. He had come to Engineer’s workshop looking for a part for his medigun. Engineer, mistaking the visit for interest in mechanical devices, had eagerly offered an impromptu tour and was showing Medic around with the same sort of eagerness a parent would have with a new baby. Medic, a bit stunned, had found himself unable to refuse, and he was now trapped in a purgatory of gears, wires, cables and grease. Looking around, trying to find something remotely interesting (or a possible escape route), Medic spotted a strange machine. It looked like a large box with two tanks on top and a nozzle or tube coming out of one end. He glanced around—Engineer was extolling the virtues of…something or other…and probably wouldn’t notice if an army of Heavies arrived and started shouting at him. Medic inched closer to the machine. The box had a series of lights running up the middle, each one with a label beside it: lubricate, dilate, cervical wash, inseminate. The entire contraption was an ‘Industrial Livestock Inseminator’. Now, that was interesting.

Engineer realized that his explanation was not being heard and turned around to find the doctor. He realized what he was looking at and swallowed a smirk. He’d hoped that Medic would notice that one in particular. “I designed that for work at the ranch,” he lied smoothly, goggles covering the glee in his eyes. “Just a simple contraption for insemination.”

Medic squirmed a little, trying to discretely adjust his trousers and coat to make the growing bulge between his legs less obvious. He nodded vaguely in Engineer’s direction, not really hearing the other man. “Yes…contraption…very good…” He had to try it. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else properly until he had used this machine on himself. He didn’t know how he would get to it yet, but he knew he had to find a way. “I, ah, must be going,” Medic mumbled, wondering how quickly he could get to Heavy—or rather, get Heavy’s cock inside of him. “Thank you very much for the tour!”

“A course, doc. Oh, did you find that part you were looking f-?” The man was gone. Engineer chuckled and went back to fixing a machine.

*

Heavy was busy playing poker with Demo, Sniper and Scout. He was winning handily. “Do ho ho, all these leetle chips are for Heavy? So nice of you to give them to me!” he mocked Scout, who blustered angrily and threw a chip at Heavy’s head.

Medic burst into the room, trying not to look as though he needed an urgent fucking. “…Heavy,” he said, as calmly as possible, “could I please have your assistance in the infirmary?”

“Da, doktor, but after game.” Heavy grinned, ruffling Scout’s hair.

Trying not to simply throw himself on the poker table for Heavy to fuck in front of everyone, Medic tried again. “…it’s quite urgent.”

“Can not wait?” Heavy was not getting it. He was enjoying his game.

Sniper was getting it. He could see the bulge in Medic’s pants and the tension in his whole body. He exchanged a grin with Demo. “Go on, big fella, can’t you see the doc needs ya?”

Demo grinned back, taking advantage of the distraction and leaning over to look at Scout’s cards. “Aye, I’d do what the Medic says, Heavy, if y’know what’s good for ya.”

Scout just frowned. “C’mon, c’mon, stay or go, but let’s get on with the freakin’ game!”

Medic blushed slightly, clearing his throat and looking pointedly at Heavy, avoiding eye contact with either Demo or Sniper.

“But… am winning!” he protested, making a sad face.

Gritting his teeth, Medic used his emergency tactic. After a few situations like this, he and Heavy had worked out a code word. Medic didn’t like to use it too often, because his teammates weren’t stupid—they would figure it out. “Heavy, tanzen.”

Heavy raised an eyebrow, putting down his cards. “I will beat you at cards later, leetle Scout.” He left and headed away with Medic.

Sniper smirked at Demo and they snickered a bit together.

“Holy crap!” Scout screamed, “let’s play already!”

*

Medic frowned at Heavy for a moment as he fumbled his lover’s pants open. “Honestly, mein Heavy! I thought I was going to have to do this right in front of everyone!”

“Sorry doktor, did not realize!” Heavy practically ripped off Medic’s pants, grabbing a condom and lube from one of his pouches and quickly jerking himself to attention before sheathing himself in a Heavy-sized condom.

“Ah…that’s ok, mein Heavy…” Medic sighed, reclining on his exam table and eagerly offering himself to the Russian.

Heavy lubricated a finger and slid it into his eager partner, curling it to find Medic’s favourite spot, hooking and pulling at the doctor’s anus. He smiled down at his lover’s expression. “What made doktor so… hungry?” Heavy could never remember the English word for aroused.

“Ohhh…ja…” For a moment, Medic could only rock and moan and fuck himself on the finger. He blushed a little when he thought of Engineer’s invention. “Ah…nothing, mein Heavy…ngh…”

Heavy grinned a wide grin, adding a second finger and curling them the same way. “Good?” he purred, his voice so deep that it felt like it was vibrating through Medic’s whole body.

“Mmm…ja…” Medic groaned. Even though he always enjoyed his Russian lover, who was perpetually patient and indulgent, Medic couldn’t get thoughts of Engineer’s insemination machine out of his head. As he forced himself up and down on Heavy’s fingers, he kept thinking of being filled with water (or other fluids) from the tanks, with the tube shoved deep inside himself…

Heavy groaned, enjoying the tightening slickness around his fingers. He pulled his fingers out as the muscles clenched, trying to keep him inside, then quickly replaced his fingers with the condomed head of his cock, slowly pushing inwards.

Rendered speechless by the feeling of Heavy’s wide, flaring head filling him, Medic cried out silently and thrashed, clutching at Heavy with his hands and legs.

Having been together since they’d first met, Heavy knew exactly how quickly the doktor could take him. He entered the man evenly, smooth and slow for the first 30 seconds, then he grabbed his thighs and started to fuck him harder.

Medic squealed and laughed as he felt Heavy fill him, shivering with pleasure as the man’s massive hands closed around his legs. He knew that the Russian could easily snap his femurs like kindling, but that only served to heighten his arousal.

Groans quickly turned to a bear-like roar of pleasure as Heavy used Medic for his own pleasure. The sounds he made behind the minigun were fairly similar to the ones he made while fucking his lover.

“Oh…Heavy…yes, use me! I’m yours!” Medic screamed. Sometimes Heavy liked to make love gently, and sometimes the Russian would fuck his brains out. Medic loved both, especially when it was his decision.

“Ты сводишь меня с ума! Я всю жизнь ждала тебя!” Heavy’s fingers tightened on Medic’s thighs and he thrust at his full speed, his hips slamming into the German hard. He was always grateful that they both had enough padding that Medic wouldn’t bruise after this sort of treatment.

Medic didn’t understand Heavy, but he was too distracted by the wonderful pounding to really care. He shivered and shook beneath his huge lover. “Heavy! I’m…!”

Heavy’s final cry almost sounded like the minigun herself as he came in Medic.

Medic’s climax followed a moment later. When he had finished, he collapsed back on the examination table, panting softly with an unfocused smile. “Mmm…sehr gut, mein Heavy,” he purred.

Heavy pulled himself out, stripped off the condom and tossed it away. He patted his doktor’s belly happily. “Zer gut, da.”

“Mmm…well, why don’t you go destroy the others at cards?” He loved hearing Heavy speak German with his thick Russian accent.

Heavy laughed. “Will win for doktor.” He bent down and kissed the curl on Medic’s forehead. “Ich liebe dich.”

“Ich liebe dich auch mein Heavy.” Medic giggled a little as Heavy’s massive mouth lightly brushed his ticklish little curl. “And for the Motherland?”

“Da!” he grinned, patting Medic’s chest before pulling on his pants and heading out to play poker.

Medic busied himself tidying his infirmary, humming softly as he worked. It wasn’t long, though, before he started thinking about Engineer’s invention again, even with the soft throbbing of his recent fucking still present. He would have to steal it, somehow, or he would go mad. That night, he found himself standing outside Engineer's workshop, staring at the imposing building. He had heard, from those who should know, that the workshop was terribly difficult to get into, so he was very surprised to see that all of the usual warning lights on the lock were dark. He hesitantly approached the door. Nothing happened. He pushed on it; it swung open without a sound on its well-oiled hinges. Medic crept inside, cautiously shining his penlight around the gloomy interior. There it was, carefully covered with a clean canvas tarp, its shape still obvious: Engineer's cattle impregnation machine. Medic stalked closer, still expecting some sort of horrible alarm or trap, until he was right in front of the device.

"Well howdy, sawbones." The only part of Engineer that was illuminated by the little penlight was his goggles and his unsettling grin. "Lookin' for somethin'?"

Medic's eyes widened. He was quite pleased that this was his only reaction. He lowered the penlight so that his teammate wasn't quite so...creepy looking. "Ah, Engineer!" Medic smiled, all charm and innocence. "Why, yes, I forgot a piece earlier, and seeing that your workshop was open, I didn't want to bother you!"

"Sure you don't want some help gettin' strapped in?" Engineer gestured to the large green dildo poking out of Medic's pouch.

Medic felt his cheeks flush, hoping that Engineer wouldn't be able to see it in the dim light. "That is, ah, Scout's. I confiscated it from him earlier, and...I must have forgotten to put it away. Silly me!"

"Shucks, doc, I didn't take you to be such a miserable liar."

Medic sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a self-effacing grin and offering the jiggling green dildo. "No, I'm afraid I have always been a terrible liar. I'm not sure why I bother."

"If there's one thing I won't stand for, it's dishonesty." Engineer grinned, taking the toy from Medic and uncovering his machine rather affectionately.

"Nor should you..." Medic murmured, clearly distracted by the unveiling.

Engineer started up the machine, getting everything in place. "Strip down, doc."

Still blushing prettily, Medic unbuttoned his long coat, his vest and shirt and tossed them into a neat pile, trying not to simply rip everything off as he heard the machine's noises. He forced himself to leave his pants until last, after he had even taken off his socks and garters. Finally, he stripped off his underwear and stood in front of Engineer, quivering and erect. After a moment, he put his boots and gloves back on, because it suited him to do so. His glasses, of course, stayed on.

Engineer fished Medic's tie out from the heap of clothes and tightened it around his leaking cock. "There, ain't you pretty as a picture in a dirty magazine," Engineer leered.

Medic gave a startled laugh. Even after living in such close proximity to Engineer for almost a year, it sometimes still surprised him that the Texan wasn't just the 'aw shucks' polite cowboy it often suited him to pretend to be; he could be as raunchy and downright mean as any of the others. Medic gasped sharply as the tie was pulled almost painfully tight around his erection and he couldn't suppress a whimper and a buck of his hips as he stared between Engineer and his creation. The machine now had the green dildo affixed to the nozzle, vibrating and eager. 

Medic gave a startled laugh. Even after living in such close proximity to Engineer for almost a year, it sometimes still surprised him that the Texan wasn't just the 'aw shucks' polite cowboy it often suited him to pretend to be; he could be as raunchy and downright mean as any of the others. Medic gasped sharply as the tie was pulled almost painfully tight around his erection and he couldn't suppress a whimper and a buck of his hips as he stared between Engineer and his creation. The machine now had the green dildo affixed to the nozzle, vibrating and eager. 

Engineer pushed the doctor down to the floor, spreading his legs and tightening leather straps around the calves of the German's boots, keeping him spread for the machine. He pulled down the man's arms and belted them to a bar against the floor, keeping him held awkwardly with his ass in the air. Engineer smirked, standing with one booted foot on the machine and pressing a few buttons. The green dildo stretched out towards Medic's hole, then recoiled back into the machine completely.

Medic moaned, forcing himself to lie still as Engineer prepared him. His cock was already dribbling a little, despite the makeshift cock ring. He looked down the length of his body, watching the dildo move and retract. He couldn't hold back a whimper as he watched it disappear.

When it came out again, it was dripping with thick lubricant. It made the same mechanical sounds as Engineer's hand as it slid out towards him, the tip sliding into an eager and waiting Medic. Engineer chuckled, pressing a few more buttons. 

"Nghh!" Medic gasped, still watching the machine. His eyes fluttered shut as the dildo pressed against his entrance. "Oh...gott...Engineer!" he whimpered, rocking against his restraints already.

"Shucks, pardner, ye'll make a man blush." Engineer purred, turning the vibration on higher as the large toy pushed further into the restrained man on the floor.

Medic was soon reduced to incoherent noises as the nubbly dildo forced and pushed its way into him. His head slammed back, narrowly avoiding smashing on the cement floor, as the toy hit an especially sensitive area.

"Let's get this under here before ya get hurt." Engineer chuckled to himself, grabbing a pillow from the worktable he often napped on and putting it under Medic's head. "Now take it like a man, shorty." He pressed another series of buttons and the whole dildo began to throb in and out of Medic, almost to the wide base.

"Mmm?" Medic murmured, his head hardly touching the pillow. He was completely unaware of how close he had come to ending early. Medic was soon screaming joyously as the machine pounded him. The pillow quickly made itself useful as the lanky German thrashed and bucked against the straps.

"Haha, I built that." Engineer curled his lip as he watched Medic twist and thrash like an unbroken horse. "Good boy, you like that?"

"Nghhh...mmhmm!" Medic gasped. His glasses had been knocked askew by his squirming, and his face was flushed and sweating. "Mein gott, ja! Mehr!"

"I bet you were hopin' I'd do a bit more than fuck you with this fancy machine though, am I right?" Engineer chuckled.

"Ah...was meinst du? I mean...what do you mean?" Medic asked, his voice a little stammery because he was being shaken by the machine.

"There are all sorts of fancy things I can do with you." His grin widened. The fact that Medic couldn't see the man's eyes made the smile even more frightening. "Like... this one." he pressed the dilate button.

Medic looked a little concerned, not sure what sort of 'fancy things' the little Texan might have in mind, and hardly able to recall what the different settings on the machine had been. He wasn't kept waiting long: the hollow dildo began to stretch and expand inside his guts, being forced larger by the machine. "Oh! Oh, Engineer!" Medic rocked as much as he could on the dildo, straining to touch himself, only to be thwarted by the thick straps holding his wrists.

"Ahahaha!" Engineer slapped his thigh. "If only I could strap you into a mechanical bull like this!"

"...!" Medic blushed again, turning his face into the pillow. It wasn't long before he had forgotten his embarrassment as he was forcefully fucked. "H-how big does it g-get?" he cried, jolting and vibrating on the machine. His cock was straining at the tie.

"Well, technically it's used to dilate pregnant heifers to help them give birth, so... picture a baby calf." Engineer licked his lips as he watched Medic thrash.

Medic's eyes widened. "I...I'm not sure about this!" he protested, but his cock gave another delighted spasm.

"Aw, Doc, that's too bad now, ain't it?"

"...was?!" Medic began to look a little panicked. "I don't want to h-have to explain why I had to r-respawn because I was t-torn apart f-from the inside!"

"I'm just ribbing you, Doc, I want to finish you off right on this machine this time," the Texan kept the dial at levels that the doctor could handle. "Just relax and take as much as ya can."

Medic whimpered, raising an eyebrow at Engineer. Before long, though, he was too busy being stretched and fucked and vibrated to think about passing a calf. "Ach! Ja!"

"That's what ya get." Engineer laughed, "That's what it was made for." He pressed another button and Medic suddenly found himself filling with warm, soothing water, the dildo shrinking back to its usual size - certainly not small, but not nearly as big as it had been.

Medic's head flew back, sinking into the pillow, and he shuddered with pleasure as he felt the warm liquid flowing into him. "Ohh...Herr Engineer..." he whimpered, staring up at his teammate. "Danke, danke!"

"You like that?" The rough American's accent was only adding to Medic's enjoyment of his predicament.

"Ahhh! Ja!" Medic raised his head enough to see the two tanks mounted on top of the machine. He could see the level of one slowly, slowly going down and his eyes widened again. He flashed back to his medical textbooks, trying to remember if it was possible to drown from the inside. But it felt so good...

"Ya like that, ya big ol' whore?" Engineer didn't sound unkindly, more... affectionate.

Medic raised an eyebrow at the name, but just for a moment, before he broke into a wide grin. "As I said, I'm a terrible liar. Guilty as charged...ahhh..." It was pleasant to just be filled like this after the violent fucking and dilating, to just watch and feel the water slowly fill him.

Soon he felt as if he might burst and as soon as he did, the water started to retract. He could see the tank filling up again as he drained.

"Ahhh..." Medic sighed, eyes drifting shut as he felt the water flow out of him.

"You enjoyin', boy?"

"Ohhh, yes...I'm very glad I, ah...came to visit you..."

"There's one more thing I wanna try, if yer hole is amenable." he tipped his hardhat politely.

"Certainly, Herr Engineer," Medic smiled a little sleepily.

"Well, you see this tank here?" he gestured to the other tank, which was currently empty.

Medic nodded, thrusting and tightening around the dildo as he tried to finish himself off.

"Let me just hook you up." Engineer slid a tube over Medic's cock. "I hope you don't mind, I borrowed some tips from your Kritzkrieg." he turned a large machine, very similar to Medic's kritzkrieg onto the bound and twitching doctor, then carefully undid the tie from around Medic's cock. For a moment, he held the man's cock tightly in his mechanical hand, then he released and turned the kritz-twin onto Medic at full blast.

Medic screamed as he felt himself cumming almost painfully, as though the machine were taking liquid out of his blood to produce more semen. The tube attached to his cock sucked it away, and Medic had a brief moment of respite. He panted and gasped, fucking himself on the dildo a little as he finished.

"There, ya damn near filled the container and I ain't done with ya yet." Engineer pressed another few buttons, but kept the kritz on Medic so he could keep cumming. Soon Medic could feel himself filling and watched the tank full of his semen empty into him.

"Wha...?" Medic's eyes widened and he sat up a little to look at the tank. He knew he had cum more than usual, but the tank was indeed almost full. He laughed wildly as he watched the cum start flowing into him, the sound turning into almost a howl as he started cumming again.

"Ah, ya like that, don't ya, Doc?" Engineer chuckled. "Bein' all filled up by yourself. Look, your tummy's gettin' distended." He patted Medic's abdomen as if he was patting a prize heifer.

Medic followed Engineer's gaze. Sure enough, his stomach was expanding and swelling as though he had eaten several enormous meals. "Ohhh..." he gasped in the moments between ejaculations, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt more of his hot semen being pumped back inside of him. "Oh, yes..."

"Here, we best take this off before you burst yourself." Engineer slid the tube off his cock and turned off the kritz-twin.

"Nghh...thank you..." Medic moaned, watching the tank continue to empty into him and his stomach continue to balloon. "Es ist so gut!"

"Ya still got a bit more to get in, the tank's not empty yet, pardner." Engineer went back to the tank and watched it drain, enjoying the sight of the big German expanding, practically vibrating with pleasure as he was fucked and filled like the needy slut he was.

"Ooh...ohh, sheiBe...mmm...ah, s'ist-ohh..!" Medic moaned, fucking himself on the dildo as he watched the last bit drain into him.

"Wanna cum again?" Engineer gently put his boot on Medic's belly, pressing down ever so slightly.

"Nahhh!" Medic squirmed as his swollen belly was pressed. "Ja, bitte, nuer einmal mehr, bitte!"

Engineer took out a knife and slit the tie off Medic's already spurting cock. "Then make a mess on yourself, boy!"

Medic came again with a violent, wrenching scream. He didn't even have a moment to be concerned about the blade so close to his manhood before he was spraying his own bloated stomach.

"Whoooowee, would ya look at that!" the Texan laughed, letting Medic recover for a moment before draining the cum right back out of him. 

Medic could only pant and gasp as his abused guts were drained. He smiled weakly up at his teammate, eyes mostly closed.

"Another satisfied customer." The wide grin was no less unsettling now. "And if ya come in here again without askin', I'll beat you like a rented mule," his grin turned cold.

"Ah...yes..." Medic laughed a little nervously. He had no doubt that Engineer meant it. "...thank you."

"Good, glad we understand each other." He pressed a few buttons and the green dildo slid out of Medic. He freed the toy from his machine and put it up on the counter. After unstrapping the big German puddle, he helped him up, as always, very grateful that he was incredibly strong for his size. Medic was by no means small.

Medic gratefully leaned against the shorter man. He was soaked with sweat (and other fluids), he was panting, and his legs were shaking too badly to support himself properly.

Engineer sat him on a work table and cleaned him up with a few rags he had lying about. Without even asking, he pressed a glass of water into Medic's shaking hands and helped him hold it steady as he drank.

Medic eagerly downed the water without saying a word. His eyes were glassy and unfocused.

Engineer got him a few more glasses of water, wrapped him up in a spare blanket and let him sit while he cleaned up the machine. Once everything was spotless, he folded up Medic's clothes, tossed them in the doctor's lap, scooped up the taller man and carried him out of the workshop to Engineer's mostly unused room.

Completely spent, Medic purred sleepily and nestled against Engineer.

Once the German was all tucked into bed, Engineer removed his helmet, goggles and most of his gear. He helped Medic out of his boots and gloves, then snuggled in next to the doctor, wearing only his boxers and a wicked grin.

"Mmm," Medic murmured sleepily. "But, you...?" He snuggled as close to the nice, warm Engineer as he could. The man's build and paunch reminded him a little of a much smaller version of Heavy.

"I'm jest fine." he wrapped his big arms around Medic and nestled in to sleep.

Release

The RED Medic could stand it no longer. He had resisted for five months, but somehow being approached by that…flamboyant whore!...who was his BLU counterpart had undone his careful control. He should have just killed the little slut before he had time to say anything. He was right; they were the same. The difference was, BLU had given into his impure carnal desires completely, had come up with entirely new depravities, while he, RED, had withstood for so, so long. But working so closely with Heavy…Medic felt a stirring in his loins even at the thought, a stirring he fought to suppress, to eradicate. But BLU was right, he couldn’t go on this way forever…couldn’t…but he didn’t even know if the Heavy felt…was as sick and deranged as him. Perhaps another outlet. Sniper. The bushman had no qualms about being an openly practising homosexual—had mentioned it when Medic had first examined him. A brief, meaningless encounter to release this horrendous pressure, then he could resume his normal, professional relationship with his Heavy.

Sniper had seen the change in Medic over the months. He’d start out aggressively and in complete control, but now he did not push the Heavy away when the big fellow hugged him after battle. He leaned against his constant companion, shivered at the slightest touches. He also had what looked like tantrums once he was locked alone in his study. Sniper had seen him pull down whole shelves of books and papers. It was almost as if the doctor were trying to give himself long and tedious tasks to help keep himself—and his libido—in check. Sniper had also noticed an abrupt, seething something looming about the man since he’d had his run-in with his counterpart.

Medic liked to consider himself a man of action—once he had decided something, he followed through. Still, even after he had decided that he must fornicate with Sniper, it took him almost a week to get up the nerve to approach the man. He knocked on the Australian’s door at dusk. He was wearing his lab coat, buttoned to the throat; boots; gloves, and nothing else.

Sniper answered the knock, just wearing his pants and hat. His glasses were off for once and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Need something, doctor?”

Before he could answer or change his mind, Medic unbuttoned his coat in a flurry of activity, almost losing a few buttons in the process. He stood in the gloaming in front of Sniper’s dusty camper in his naked glory, holding his coat wide like a flasher: six-plus feet of over-fifty, hirsute, muscled, lean (with a slight paunch), German. His expression was defiant. His polished boots reflected Sniper’s dim porch light.

“Uh…come in?” Sniper’s eyes widened but his voice came widened but his voice came out steady as if murderous doctors flashed him often.

With great dignity, Medic stepped past Sniper into the cramped camper.

“D’you need…something?” the Australian found himself repeating, closing the door and following Medic, a bit stunned.

Carefully doffing his coat and hanging it on a hook, (after a quick inspection—the camper was clean, one could at least say that for Sniper) Medic finally spoke. “I have a proposition for you,” he murmured, his voice quite loud enough for the tiny space. The fact that only his extremities were covered and he was apparently unarmed made him no less formidable.

“Uh huh.” Sniper was aware that he sounded like the Scout, but he just couldn’t help it.

“I need…sexual release. You are a homosexual.” Medic spread his hands as if to say, my conclusion is inevitable.

“Uh…huh,” the Sniper swallowed hard, then burst into nervous laughter. “Look, mate, I’m, uh, flattered, and all, but I don’t think we’d be…compatible.”

“Why not? I am an eager man,” he said ‘eager’ like a horrific disease, “you prefer sexual relations with men. What is the issue?”

“You’re the sort to be in control and I need the same thing,” Sniper explained, grinning crookedly.

Pursing his lips with frustration—luckily Medic had been flaccid throughout the exchange, making it a little less urgent—Medic sighed. “I’m certain that we can work something out,” he said, his voice edging toward a growl.

Sniper sat on his bed, fingers edging casually towards his kukri. “What did you have in mind?”

“I will, ah, ‘bottom’ for you. That is the term, yes?” The only outward sign of Medic’s discomfort was the thickening of his accent.

“You’d…?” Sniper chuckled, letting go of the knife. “Lay down. On yer back, if you please.”

Swallowing nervously once he’d turned his back on Sniper, Medic elegantly reclined on the miniscule folding bed, legs pressed tightly together. His penis was beginning to swell and darken.

Sniper slid off his pants. He jerked himself partway to attention, then crouched over Medic. He grabbed a condom and some lube. He gave the condom to the doctor, pouring some lube onto his fingers and stretching himself quickly.

Medic examined the wrapped condom as though he had been handed some alien piece of technology, turning it this way and that in his long fingers. He watched Sniper, his mouth wide. “What…what are you doing? …shouldn’t you be…?”

Sniper sighed, unwrapping the condom after wiping the extra lube off on the sheets. He slid the rubber over the other’s cock and straddled him. “Do you want to fuck me or not?”

“…yes…”

“Then stay still.” Sniper lowered himself, thighs quivering a bit as he arranged Medic with his hand to help the man slide in. “Good?” He breathed in sharply as Medic’s cock slid deeper.

In response, Medic made a strangled sound deep in his throat, his eyes widening until there was white showing all the way around. His hands clawed into Sniper’s bedding.

Sniper started to laugh, then groaned as he slid into Medic’s lap. The other man forced him wider as he took hi into the base of his cock. He moved slowly. “This is your first?” he whispered.

Medic nodded jerkily, every muscle clenched. He looked almost terrified. “With…someone else…” he whispered, sounding ashamed.

“Just relax,” the Australian crooned, lifting himself up and almost letting Medic pop out before taking it all again, rubbing and grinding to hit his prostate. He was feeling a bit better about this now that Medic was so bashful.

“I’m…ah…not hurting you?” Medic asked, trying to sound remotely knowledgeable or helpful. He was hard, but far too uptight to be anywhere near orgasm.

“No, I’ve gotcha, mate. No worries.” Sniper caressed the older man’s hairy chest, relishing in the hard muscle. He kneaded and massaged at whatever skin and muscle he could reach, lifting and lowering himself slowly, methodically. He tentatively tightened his inner muscles.

“…ngh…” Slowly, slowly, Medic relaxed, almost muscle by muscle, following Sniper’s skilled hands. To Medic’s surprise, the fingers on his chest felt almost as good as the tight heat on his penis. But that was unscientific, nonsense! It was hardly required for sexual release!

Sniper scratched his nails down Medic’s chest, gently at first, then more sharply. He clenched around Medic, rubbing faster, as if he could pin down his orgasm if only he found the right spot. His cock was up against his belly now, red and dripping.

Medic gasped sharply as Sniper scratched him , folding up until he was almost pressed against Sniper. “…Gott!” he cried, hands spasming in the blankets. He thust now, as much as he could beneath Sniper.

Sniper held him, arms snaking around his neck. He leaned down, kissing and biting the German’s neck, groaning in time to their thrusting. “Fff…” he hissed, one hand leaving Medic’s skin to start stroking his own cock.

“S-Sniper…! Ich…!” Medic’s face flushed and he pounded himself against Sniper, head thrown back, mouth agape as he came hard.

Sniper caught up quickly, stroking himself and riding Medic to a quick release, making a mess across the other man’s chest. Panting, he extricated himself and flopped down next to the doctor. “Alright?” he chuckled, happily in his afterglow.

Medic mumbled some nonsense, an uncharacteristic grin on his face. He cosied up to Sniper, eyes drifting shut. “…mmm…”

Sniper grinned a bit, allowing this uncharacteristic behaviour. Hopefully he wouldn’t get a bone saw to the face tomorrow. 

Bouncer

(Music: Obsession by Army of Lovers. Inspired by Ode to the Bouncer by Studio Killers. This is a pre- and sequel to Before the Kitchen)

Jess had been stalking this boy for weeks; quietly, discreetly. He drank at the same bar, danced at the same nightclub, went to the same restaurants and watched his home. The boy wouldn’t be missed for a few days, since he had a tendency to get roaring drunk with strange men and crawl out the front door after the morning after and often the morning after that had passed.

He was in the nightclub and Jess was ready to strike. He had all his knives packed, his apron wrapped around them in the car. He was all raw energy and delicious sexual tension. This was going to be wonderful. The only problem seemed to be the bouncer.

The bouncer eyed the short, chubby man trying not to glare up at him and tried to hide his smile. “Woah, there. I’m sorry, the club’s full. You’re just going to have to wait.” The club was full, but more than that, there was something about this guy. Micah was a big man, and he’d been a bouncer a few years (and done worse things, before that). There wasn’t much he was afraid of, but this pudgy little guy…he set off alarm bells. For one thing, he was not at all the sleek, preppy sort of cliental that this club catered to. He set off Micah’s gaydar, but beyond that…

“Oh, so early?” Jess put on his best sweet seductress face, even though he felt like stabbing this man in the navel. Not only was he very tall and in his way, but he’d immediately bristled when Jess approached. Very few people reacted to him this way, but once in awhile he’d run into someone who could see the predator that he was. “I really need to get in, I’m meeting friends for birthday drinks,” he smiled up at the bouncer, biting his lip. At least the man was attractive, it wouldn’t be at all painful to seduce him.

“Mm-hmm.” Micah gave the shorter man his best ‘so sorry, nothing I can do’ expression. Bullshit, birthday drinks, he found himself thinking uncharitably, though he had no idea why the thought had come into his head. “Well, I’m sorry, sir, you’ll just have to wait, and it could be a while.” Please, just leave, he thought.

“Isn’t there any way I can get in?” Jess was suddenly closer, running a small hand up the bouncer’s chest, grinning up at him.

Micah just raised an eyebrow and stared at the man’s hand like it was something mildly vulgar or offensive. The guy really reminded him of someone…

“Come on, if you don’t like it, don’t let me in,” the short man shrugged, good-naturedly. “At least you’ll get some good head out of it.”

Micah shook his head with a laugh. “Sir, I’ll be frank with you. This is a gay bar. If I let every guy in who hit on me…I wouldn’t have a job, comprende?”

Jess chuckled, “Hitting on you is one thing, offering you a blowjob is another. Maybe by the time we’re done, there’ll be room. At least let me treat myself on my birthday.”

“Now it’s your birthday, is it. Look, I’m working, and there’s a line behind you. I’m…flattered…but if you keep this up I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Ah. That was it. When Micah had first arrived in the city, one of his cousins had shown him around, gotten him a few jobs. Micah was a big guy; it was only natural that he’d end up working for the mob. He’d watched one of them cut a guy up, just slice him to pieces, and all the time he had smiled like he was having a Sunday picnic or something. That’s who this guy reminded him of. A smiling predator. Micah shivered. Someone tapped his arm and he fought back a startle, turning to see the smiling face of his replacement.

“Hey, Micah, why so tense? C’mon, you’re done, go get some sleep or something.”

Micah nodded. “Yeah…this guy doesn’t get in, understand me?” He whispered into Connor’s ear.

“Sure. Whatever. It’s packed in there.” Shaking his head—Micah was so twitchy sometimes—Connor clapped his co-worker on the back and turned to look down at the dude who had freaked him out so badly. He was just a plump little guy. Harmless.

Jess grinned at the bouncer’s replacement. The new bouncer seemed much easier. “Hi…” he licked his lips.

“Hey,” Connor purred, completely taken in. “Sorry about Micah. He’s twitchy, y’know? Did I hear it’s your birthday?”

“Mhm,” he nodded and bit his lip, looking wide-eyed and hopeful.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve chosen us for your, ah, birthday needs. What can I do to make your birthday wishes come true?” Connor put a little extra emphasis on ‘cum’. Damn, but he was a sexy little chub.

“Letting me in would be nice, but I understand if you’d rather wish me a happy birthday more privately.” Jess gave him a sweet little smile, putting a hand on his chest and practically melting into him.

“Dahhh…” Connor scrambled to close the velvet rope across the entrance to the club, ignoring the groans of the people standing further back in line. “Ah, yeah, sure. C’mon, over here.” The bouncer draped a hand over the shorter man’s shoulder, almost protectively.

Jess grinned, eyes flashing with a triumphant ferocity. He got on his knees in front of the big bouncer, undoing his pants in a hurry and stroking the boy to full erection. He didn’t exactly take his time, but he still believed these things could not be rushed. His mouth slid over the head of the bouncer’s cock and he took him all in, eyes rolling back.

“Ohhh…fuuuck…” Connor sighed, one big hand tangled deep in the other man’s hair. “Fuck, you’re good at that…” In a very short time, his cock was weeping drops of clear fluid, and his eyes were closed as he leaned heavily on the man between his legs.

The little chef groaned around the cock in his mouth, enjoying the sensation of it hitting the back of his throat. He pushed Connor back against the wall gently to help him stay standing, bobbing his head hungrily.

“Oh. Oh, yeah…fuck, I’m gonna…” With a gutteral noise, Connor spasmed and came down the kneeling man’s throat, his hands scrambling at his hair and shoulders as he moaned and pounded as far and as hard as he could.

Jess swallowed, letting a little dribble down his chin and wiping it away with a smile when he pulled back. He looked up at Connor with a big, dopey grin. “You got me just what I wanted.”

“Mmm…that’s good.” Connor grinned down at the smaller man. “Um…you can, you know, go in. If you want. I’m sorry about Micah. Happy birthday.” The bouncer stumbled back to his place in line and nodded his head for the little man to enter.

Jess stood on his tiptoes to kiss Connor’s chin. “Thanks, sweetheart. It’s going to be a good night,” he winked, going into the club to start his birthday hunt.

****

“In other news, a body believed to be that of 24-year-old Jacob Holmes was recovered last night. Authorities say that the body was badly mutilated, and…”

Micah clicked off the TV, feeling light-headed. He sank onto the couch, the last image fixed in his mind. It was a picture of a smiling young man, his hair perfectly styled, in the prime of life, beautiful and vibrant and…dead. Micah had a sick feeling, and he knew what he had to do. The phone was in the bedroom. He forced himself off of the couch and made his way down the hall. He grabbed for the light and flicked the switch. Nothing. What the hell? He jiggled it a few more times before backing out of the doorway. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was definitely wrong. He backed down the hall, with a vague idea that he had to get out, had to leave the apartment.

The knife had been blacked out, so he didn’t see it glimmer when it slashed out of the darkness, stabbing him deep in the thigh. In the dark, with such a large man, Jess had gone straight for the femoral artery.

Micah’s hand moved to cover the wound before he even felt the pain. He had grown up in a small town, and he had done plenty of stupid things as a kid. He knew when he was badly hurt. He took three steps before his leg buckled and he fell to one knee, slipping in terrifyingly large puddles of his own blood. He struggled to stand again, to face his attacker, fighting to keep his hand pressed against the wound through the spurts of slick blood. He had a horrible suspicion that he knew what was happening, but no. That was just paranoid. He pulled himself onto his good leg using the armrest of the couch, but blood was gushing from between his fingers and his head was already swimming as he fought to reach the door, one helpless, hobbling step at a time.

He felt himself pulled back by a strong arm around his neck. Now that he was hunched over, Jess found it easier to grab the giant of a man. “Remember me?” he purred, using the same flirtatious tone he had taken at the nightclub.

Micah gave a rasping laugh, his hand pulled away from the wound for a vital instant. “Yeah, I remember you…” he sighed. It was all just sort of distantly amusing now. He was paranoid, but he was also right. “I remember you.” He couldn’t remember if he had said that already, and it was so cold in here. He shivered. “It was you, wasn’t it? With that guy…Holmes…” he laughed. “Is your name…Moriarty?” He could almost feel what years of TV programs had shown—synapses or nerves or whatever firing, just shooting off whatever they thought of first, making him say crazy shit as he no longer seemed to care. “You got him.”

“I certainly did,” Jess chuckled. “And now I’ve got you, too.” He bent down and kissed the man, roughly. He was certainly fading fast.

“Why…?” Micah gasped. His breathing was slow, so slow. It felt like a revelation, like something he should have known his whole life. If only he could go swimming like this, not needing oxygen! He could hibernate. He could…his eyelids were so, so heavy, but he wanted to fix the man’s image in his mind forever so the police would know… “Who?” It was nice to be kissed, though, and he tried to reach up and grab the man, to hold him until help came, to touch skin one last time. His fingers barely fluttered.

“He was delicious.” Jess murmured against Micah’s mouth. It had taken him only a few nights to find out where Micah lived. Following him home from the nightclub had been the hardest part, since the paranoid man seemed to constantly be watching. It was wonderful to finally have the man who had seen him for what he was at his mercy. “Sleep well, Micah.”

In the time it took him to try and think of something witty to say, Micah died.

Jess butchered the beautiful bouncer efficiently, taking only the parts he knew he would use in the next few days. He gave him a last kiss, then left through the back door, his bloody apron stashed in a bag along with various kinds of meat and some used kitchen knives.

Luck Grown Up

“Augustus?” a quiet voice called from the Roman’s doorway. Augustus hardly recognized the man standing there. He wasn’t the shy, tiny waif that he remembered. Luck had grown taller, though not much broader. His sandy blond hair was tied back neatly and his mismatched eyes were more confident.

Augustus frowned when he glanced up. “Can I—Luck!” Augustus leapt to his feet and rushed to embrace his lover. “You’re…different. And you’ve been gone so long, damn you!”

Luck kissed Augustus over and over, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry,” he smiled, “but I had lots to do. Did you get my letters?” He stroked Augustus’ strong jaw, enjoying the stubble.

“Yes, I got your letters. And all your, ah, treasures. I kept them all.” Augustus felt his eyes tearing up, so he turned away. “But where were you?! What did you have to do that was so damned important?” He kept hugging Luck, almost too tightly, stroking the thinner boy—man’s—back over and over in a restless pattern. “Gods…you’re growing a beard!”

“I know.” He sounded remorseful. “I missed you. And I wanted to come back sooner, but I don’t think I’d have grown up unless I did what I did.” He nuzzled Augustus, stroking his hair and pretending not to see his lover’s tears. “But I went everywhere. It was so amazing. The world is so big.”

“Yes, it is big,” Augustus smiled and surreptitiously wiped his eyes. “And I would have gone with you, dammit! Why did you need to grow up, now, all of a sudden. Why not centuries ago! Why now…without me…” The last part was whispered.

Luck kissed him and smiled foolishly. “You can’t breathe underwater, silly.” He crawled up into his big lover’s arms like he used to. “You’re part of why I had to grow up. ‘cause I love you.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” the stocky Roman growled. “You’re…you’re taller than me!” he gasped. “…never mind.”

“I’m part of the sea, Auggie. I can’t always choose what to do.” He grinned. “I’m taller, but you’re still big and strong.”

“The sea didn’t sweep in here and carry you away. You did! I mean…you walked…but you left!” Augustus was feeling increasingly helpless and confused by this new, older Luck. “Since when did you start calling me ‘Auggie’?”

“Do you not like it?” he frowned. “I had lots to do, Augustus. I met all the lords of fish and sea-mammals. I visited every body of water. I met lots of people and animals. I…sort of had a fling with the moon.” He flushed.

Augustus raised an eyebrow. “…and what does any of that have to do with me?”

“I lived like a boy all my life. I seduced you because I thought you would take care of me.” He nestled into Augustus’ chest. “But you were the first person to treat me like an adult and to make me feel grown up and in love and lust and I started aging.”

“I did take care of you,” Augustus whispered, hurt.

“Yes, but you also loved me. You took care of me like a lover.” Luck kissed him. “I’m sorry. I left, but I needed to and I missed you so much.”

Answered Prayer

Dr. Polidori is in his room, horrified, satisfied and aroused by what he has finally just done with Byron. His mind keeps ranging back to the small scourge he keeps under his bed for moments of crisis such as this. Finally, he can’t take the internal torment anymore, and he rummages past the things that have collected under his bed for the instrument. Soon, he is reciting the mea culpa and flagellating himself. Unfortunately, it’s very hard to flog yourself quietly…

Byron opened the door quietly and watched the spectacle for a few minutes before clearing his throat.

"Ideo precor beátam Maríam semper Vírginem--" He times his blows to match the words, and Byron's throat clearing falls during a quiet moment. Startled, he drops the scourge and jumps, stifling his cry with a hand to his mouth. "My...my Lord! You startled me..." he says, quietly, eyes downcast, and bright red. He's panting a little, and his face is covered in a light sheen of sweat.

"Why are you flogging yourself, dear Poli?" Byron says patiently, folding his arms over his bare chest. He's wearing a robe, but it hasn't been tied, revealing absolutely everything.

Polidori can only stare, his mind absolutely blank at the dual prospect of explaining himself and of Byron's cock.

"Well?" Byron raised an eyebrow. "Is this just masochistic joy or are you punishing yourself for some sinful deed?"

"I--I--" he croaks, shoving the scourge under the bed, as if by hiding it he can make it go away. He's beginning to get chilled.

"Is this because we've fucked now?"

"Please leave," he says, very quietly.

"Why? Is this a private flogging?"

The statement is so absurd that Polidori gives a brief, startled burst of laughter, before collecting himself again. "I...I'm sorry if the noise disturbed you," he says, as calmly and rationally as he can.

"Answer me, Poli. Are you punishing yourself or just enjoying?"

Byron demanded.

"Yes," he says, the word coming out as a pained, reluctant gasp.

"Which one?"

"You know which one."

"Ah. What have you done this time, you sinful lech?" he smirked.

"What?" he gasps. "You--you know very well what I've done!"

"Because we've fucked? And you think you can flog yourself hard enough to punish yourself for that?" Byron grabbed the scourge from under the bed. "Would you like me to hit you properly?" he grinned like he was baring his teeth.

Polidori's eyes go wide with shock and, yes, terror...and his cock hardens, only adding to the absurdity of the situation. He falls backwards, catching himself on his hands, still on his knees.

Byron burst into laughter. "Well?"

He can only stare at the man standing over him, speechless again.

Byron raised the scourge and brought it down on Poli's back hard.

Polidori shrieks, his back arching and hands clawing as though he's cumming, his cock rising until it's resting against his stomach.

Byron chuckles, his own cock hardening at the masochist's reaction. "You like that?" he murmured.

"...yes..." he gasps, staring up at Byron, hands nearly touching the other's feet as he's on all fours.

"Kiss my feet." Byron demanded, raising the scourge and bringing it down across Poli's shoulders.

Polidori screams with wild ecstasy, and slides across the rough floor on his knees, lowering his lips to Byron's feet, kissing frantically.

The scourge arcs and connects again with his back with a wonderful snapping sound. Byron wasn't lying about being able to hurt him properly.

Polidori's hands are clenched so tightly that his nails are digging into his palms, but he hardly notices--his attention is all on the feet in front of him, and the delicious agony of the scourge across his back and shoulders. It does feel much better than when he does it himself.

"Suck my cock, Poli." Byron tells him after maybe twenty lashes. His cock is now fully hard and he can hardly stand to have Poli kissing his feet when his cock is demanding attention.

Polidori lifts himself, rather stiffly and painfully, to oblige. As satisfying as kissing the feet was, taking the engorged cock in his mouth is thousands of times better. He rests a hand on each of Byron's thighs to steady himself, braced for more blows.

Byron hits Poli more carefully now, though still hard enough that he's raising red welts across the man's back. He just doesn't want his cock getting bitten.

Polidori tries to feel Byron's muscles moving, so he'll know when the other is about to land a blow and not accidentally bit his cock off, and he's completely lost in the sensations of sucking and being expertly beaten.

Byron grabs Poli by the hair with one hand, keeping him steady in his motions and forcing his cock deeper into the other. With his other hand he arcs the flogger through the air until the tips bite against Poli's tender skin. His entire back and shoulders are red now, welts crisscrossing the area.

Polidori groans around his mouthful, arching his neck to test how far he can extend with the hand in his hair, eagerly leaning forward again to reach along the shaft, giving a stifled cry as the scourge strikes.

Byron forces Polidori's mouth all the way to the base of his cock, groaning. He bends over the other so his abdomen is pressed against Poli's forehead, the scourge reaching the other man's bare buttocks now.

Polidori helplessly wraps his arms around the other man's middle, pressing himself close, groaning in a fierce, desperate rhythm, as the scourge reaches this new area.

Byron curls the implement and snaps it over the tender white flesh, starting to cum in the back of Polidori's mouth.

Polidori struggles a bit as he tastes the unfamiliar substance, lifting his ass to meet the scourge.

Byron whips the flogger over Polidori's ass one last time as he orgasms, then drops it on the floor, pulling himself back from the other man's mouth.

Polidori screams all the sounds that had been trapped by the cock, clinging to his Lord and passionately kissing his firm stomach.

Byron chuckled, looking down at Poli with a smirk. "Feel better, or do we need to whip more sin out of you?"

"...ahhh..." he gasps, looking up Byron's chest at the man standing above him.

"Did you swallow my cum?"

"...yes..." Polidori says, eyes unfocused. He's swaying a bit, supported by Byron's hips.

Byron pulls him to his feet by a hand and his hair, helping him to the bed and sitting with him.

Polidori leans against him, head resting on Byron's shoulder, face turned to him with rather a guilty expression.

Byron laughs, "Still feeling guilty, are we?"

"Always," he says with a dramatic sigh, smiling.

Byron slapped him.

"Ah!" he cries, clapping a hand to his face, shocked. He looks at Byron with a hurt expression.

Byrrn chuckled, laying back on the bed and yawning. "Feel better now?"

Polidori hesitates for a moment before laying on his bed next to his lover. "...yes?" he says, not sure of the right answer.

"Oh Poli," the handsome man sighed. "You really should answer honestly."

"...mostly I just feel confused." He insinuates himself onto Byron's shoulder.

"So I shouldn't play into your masochistic desires?"

"Ah...I didn't..." he feels rather trapped by this conversation...although most conversations with this infernal man are traps.

"Speak up then."

"You should...do what you want..." he attempts.

"I always do," he chuckled.

"I'm glad..." he snuggles happily against the other.

Little Grantaire and Luc

A Note of Warning: I don’t usually like to do these, but…this story makes it necessary. Neither Carcajou or myself in any way endorse violence against children, sexual or otherwise. That part of the story is not written for our enjoyment. We get no sexual satisfaction from it. It is simply an unfortunate event in our version of Grantaire’s life.

Trigger warning: rape, abuse, incest, child abuse

Grantaire is working in the family's small, dusty herb garden. He's thinking, of all things, about marriage. Several village girls have made eyes at him, and he's aware that several of their fathers have spoken to his brother and mother--also aware of the answer, "No. We need him here." He is wearing a shirt despite the heat, to hide the bruises his brother gave him after the last father had come to the farm. His brother had called him a slut and accused him of leading the girls on so he could abandon his family. He was right about one thing--he didn't care about the girls, not -that- way.

One of the village boys came by, leading a goat. "Hello, Alain." he grinned. He was half naked and still sweating from the heat and his work. "Aren't you warm?"

Grantaire smiles shyly at the handsome older boy, feeling his shameful penis stir and blushing a little. He feels like one of the girls. "Hi, Luc. I, uh, actually find it cooler with a shirt on," he says, rather lamely.

Luc chuckled a bit at the younger boy's stuttering reply. He knew Alain's... leanings. He never looked at the girls. Honestly, Luc was curious to try him out, he'd been with girls before, but never with another boy. "Are you busy?"

"Um, yes..." He waves at the dry earth and the thin, yellow plants. "I'm carrying water. Usually there's more water here, but as you know, it's been a dry year, so we have to water them..." he stops abruptly, realizing he's babbling. "There are some weeds over here, if you aren't in a hurry. For the goat, I mean."

"I'll let him get those." Luc led the goat to the weeds, crouching down next to the animal to relax. "But I can't be too long, maman expects milk for supper." He takes a stick, buries it in the earth and ties the goat to it. "I can get water with you."

"Thanks!" he says, grinning. "I'll get another bucket." He hurries back with a wooden bucket, identical to the one he's been hauling for hours. "The stream is this way." He pats the goat as he passes.

"Nahhhh," says the goat, munching on the weeds. Luc takes the bucket and they head down to the stream together.

Grantaire is quite flustered to be so close to the large, tanned, handsome, muscular object of his admiration. But every time he feels...stirrings...he remembers his mother's eyes looking at him disapprovingly out of the dark of her bed, praying over him; his brother beating him. And...the other thing. He shivers in the shade of the trees near the stream.

"Cold?" Luc asked, putting an arm around the shivering boy.

"A little...I was so hot, and in the shade..." he nestles into the arm, as he's seen the girls do with boys they fancy. He imagines he's one of them, and that they're going to be married...he shakes himself, and pulls away from Luc. "Here's the stream," he says, redundantly, and busies himself filling his buckets.

Luc filled his buckets with water, then put them down next to the stream on a smooth rock.

Grantaire watches him, puzzled. "What're you doing?" he asks, struggling considerably more to get his buckets comforably balanced to carry back.

Luc took them from him, setting the buckets next to him and pushing Alain down against the cool grass, straddling him with a grin.

Grantaire's eyes go wide, and he flops helplessly. "...Luc?" he asks, bemused, "what're you doing?" His cock hardens, almost painfully quickly, and his eyes widen with horror, then just as quickly snap shut with shame, and he squirms to get away. "I, uh...we..."

Luc leans down into him and presses their lips together. So far, no different than the girls. He squirms and protests just like they do.

Grantaire is completely torn--on one hand, this is what he's been imagining since...a long time. On the other, this is exactly what his family has warned him about. He makes a brief, helpless noise, before deciding to pretend it was a joke, and pushing Luc with a laugh.

Luc grinned, pinning R gently and kissing him again.

"Stop it," he says, his voice tremulous and uncertain.

Luc sat back on R's thighs, looking down at the lump in Alain's trousers. "Really?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes!" he cries, going red and turning away. "This isn't funny. That's...wrong."

"I thought you liked men." Luc looked confused. "And you're hard as a rock." he touched Alain's thigh, next to his erection.

"Ah..." R sighs, his head going back, hands clawing at the grass. "I..."

Luc stood up, undoing his own trousers and standing over Alain, naked. "Yes or no?" he asked. He was semi-erect, cock starting to blush red with blood.

Grantaire is trembling, nibbling his lip, and torn by desire and shame. His body shows this--he's sitting heavily on his haunches, keeping the bulk of his body as far away from Luc as he can, but his head and neck are arched as close to the other man as they can, with an expression of longing for the cock dangling before him. He shakes his head, violently, but it's not clear what he's saying.

Luc kneels down, touching Alain's chest. "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

Grantaire raises an eyebrow. "What do you want?" He leans into the touch, more comforted by it than he's...well...comfortable with.

"We could fuck. Or just kiss… I just want to try it." Luc shrugged, laying down in the grass next to Alain and pulling him into his chest.

"T-try what, exactly?" he stammers, because he's trembling so violently, and so anxious. He nestles against the warm, hairy chest, looking with big, concerned eyes at the larger man.

"Sex with another boy." Luc grinned down at him. "Don't you want to?"

"Yes!" he cries, then quickly claps a hand over his mouth and rolls off of Luc, landing on his knees in the grass, bright red. After a moment, he takes his hand away, and whispers, "I mean, no."

"It's okay if you want to." Luc told him, "or if you just want to touch yourself here with me," he smiled.

Grantaire makes incoherent noises, turning away from Luc so the other won't see he's crying.

Luc grabs his trousers and puts them over his lap, wrapping his arms around Alain. "I'm sorry, I thought you liked boys!"

Grantaire whirls. "Please don't go!" he cries through his tears. He leans into the hug, all but sobbing on Luc's shoulder. "I...I don't know!"

"It's okay, we won't do anything." he pulls Alain into his lap and holds him against his chest. His erection has died and now he's just worried looking.

Grantaire soon relaxes, his sobs becoming little hiccups as he nestles against Luc. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay. You're okay." he pets R's hair

"Thank you," he repeats. "I...have you...you know..." he blushes, but more out of embarrassment than shame.

"What?"

"...have you ever slept with a man before?" he says in a rush.

"No."

"Then...what're you doing?" R asks, perplexed.

"I want to." he shrugged. "Do you?"

"It's wrong!" he exclaims, his body showing exactly the opposite.

"Why do you say that?" Luc looked confused.

"It's dirty and a sin and you'll go to hell," he whispers, eyes wide with terror at even talking about it. "Bad things will happen."

Luc laughed. "That's ridiculous. My maman would have told me if I would go to hell for that."

"...she didn't?" he asks, baffled. "But...my maman tells me I will all the time. Maybe she just didn't want to tell you, so that it wouldn't even occur to you."

"Well... I'll ask her." Luc said resolutely. “And you should come with me."

"I've got things to do...chores..." he waves a hand at the buckets.

"I'll help, then you can come meet my maman and we'll ask her." Luc said, putting his pants back on and grabbing the buckets.

"...are you sure? I suppose...Pierre won't be back for a few hours, and I've done almost everything..." Grantaire wavers--he wants to go, but knows he shouldn't and that he'll be punished. Although almost everything he does is punished, so does it really matter?

"Come on." Luc grinned. "I'm sure you can have some supper with us."

"...alright..." Grantaire agrees, smiling shyly. He grabs his two buckets and starts his slow, labored way back to the garden, trying hard not to spill.

Luc and Grantaire made it back to the Grantaire farm quickly. Then Luc takes the other boy back to his family farm.

Grantaire trails behind when the farm comes into sight--even though it's quite close to his own, he has never visited. He pretends to be herding the goat, but it's not necessary, and he's really just afraid.

Luc ties up the goat and leads R into the house, taking off his shoes.

"Maman?"

R follows his example, staying shadow-close to the larger boy, acting much younger than he is.

Luc wandered off quietly as soon as he saw his maman, smiling. She went to take Grantaire by the hand and lead him into the kitchen. "Hello, sweet boy. You're Alain, aren't you, the youngest Grantaire boy?" she smiled, cutting some bread and goat cheese for him. They could see Luc milking the goat outside.

Grantaire nods, shyly. "Yes. How do you do, madame Bahorel?" he asks, as politely as he can.

"I'd be better if my boy came home sooner with that goat. How is your maman, still sick?"

"Sorry, that was my fault. He stopped to help me." He gazes up, rather in awe of this large, competent, strong woman. "Yes, she is..." he bows his head, trying to look...sad? Pious? Like he believes she'll ever get better?

"Oh, don't worry about that, sweetheart. Luc is a bit of a wanderer and no one can stop him from doing that." she smiled, kissing his cheek and giving him some bread and cheese.

He takes the bread and cheese, then blurts, "Is it a sin for a man to want to sleep with another man?"

She chuckles. "Oh sweet boy, no of course not. It's quite normal."

"...oh. My maman and my brother always say it is, and that if I ever even think about it, God will know and I'll go to Hell, so I try really hard not to, but..." he blushes. "I'm sorry...." In carrying the buckets, his shirt has shifted, exposing the edge of one of his bruises.

"Well, god forgive me for saying so, but your brother is a pig-fucking piece of shit." she said matter-of factly.

Grantaire's eyes go wide. "W-what?" He gives a startled laugh, watching her a little warily.

"I grew up with your maman and she was a fine woman. But she hasn't been well for a long time. She's not raising that boy right. I don't think anyone else has been beating you."

"Oh..." he says, "Well, you know, I'm clumsy, and I make mistakes, and I talk back when I shouldn't..." He's backing away toward the door, a charming smile plastered on his face. "He's right to beat me...you know."

"He's not your father and he doesn't own you, boy. You need to stick up for yourself."

Grantaire shakes his head violently. "No, he's always been like a father to me. He's always taken care of maman and me. I have to listen to him, respect him, and abide by him. I have to please him," he says, rather more significantly than he had intended to.

Marie frowned. "Oh, Alain, I didn't know he was doing that." she wrapped him gently in her arms. "You can stay here, you know. To get away from him." she said quietly.

Grantaire blinks, startled by the warm, woman-smelling scent of her. His mother smells like a shadow of this woman, and he's never been held by her like this. "W-what do you mean?" he asks, somewhat smooshed by her bosom.

"He ...hurts you. He rapes you. Am I right?" she kisses the top of his head.

Grantaire's eyes widen, and he tries to pull away, horrified. "No!" he yells. "I never said that! Why would you...I mean...I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know what that means!" He's almost hysterical, shaking and trying to push her away.

"Shh, it's okay, petit Alain." she sat him down, firmly. "You can be honest."

Grantaire suddenly finds himself in a chair, tears streaming down his face, which is buried in his hands. He shakes his head, whispering, "I'm sorry," over and over again.

"It's not your fault, there's no need for apologies," she murmurs.

"No! It is my fault! It has to be!"

"It's not. It's his fault, petit. You're not the one to blame."

"It's not his fault. He took care of me...of us...we would've died without him. He needed it. He couldn't afford to marry, he couldn't leave us, so I needed to take care of him."

She grabbed him by the chin. "Do not apologize for that horrible boy. You have never needed him and if your maman was well, she'd have beaten him senseless for what he's done to you." Marie told him.

Grantaire falls forward into her arms, so still that except for his slow, slow breathing, he could be a corpse, his face still wet.

"Mon petit." she smiled. "You'll stay here tonight."

"Alright," he says, without any intonation, clearly not caring at this point.

She stood up and left as Luc came in, letting him take over comforting the boy. She gave him a stern look as she passed though. Luc smiled at her, picking R up and carrying him to his room.

Grantaire passively allows himself to be carried, snuggling against the larger boy's chest. "Luc?"

"Mhm?"

"What'cha doin'?" he asks, sounding rather exhausted by the events of the day.

"Tucking you into bed." he took off Grantaire's shirt and tucked him under the quilt. Luc sat at the edge of the bed and stroked Alain's hair.

says: (11:04:47 PM)

"Oh. 'k." Grantaire snuggles into the bed, yawning, then scootches over to Luc, pressing against him with all his might.