NC-17, m/m, angst, a fantasy that could be considered n/c, but I don't think it is-I'd call it d/s instead.
Crazy Eddie's Private Journals: Deepthroat
By Tiriel
This time, I lost a friend to the cause. I tried to warn him, but Vicente didn't listen, didn't believe, called me paranoid. I took out my frustrations by hacking that hate group's money into our accounts. I also made a small donation to his family while I was at it, but nobody knows about that, and nobody ever will.
Lately, Cade's seemed even more impatient than usual, even more edgy. He blew up at me, even after I saved his ass by helping him get out of the senator's office. No gratitude, man. Of course, his ass is supremely worth saving, so I do it anyway, without the thanks or the sex I deserve. He actually expected me to kill Vernon if he didn't come back. He left me holding a hostage and holding the bag. I was so pissed at him.
Vernon asked a few questions about my computer equipment. I didn't answer. How do you carry on a normal conversation with someone when you're holding a gun on them? He didn't shut up right away, though.
"We're the same, you and I," Vernon said.
"Yeah, right. Stay there, and stay quiet." If I'd known then what he was...but I didn't.
"Different. Technologically advanced."
"I said, shut up!" I tried to point the gun at him menacingly. I'm not sure I was successful. I don't like being the bad guy like that. Maybe that's why my mind went wandering where it did. I'm not a violent man. I'm not into that kind of thing. Maybe I thought about it because I was so mad at Foster. Not that he cares where I put my dick, but still. But in that moment, holding that gun on Vernon, I thought about what might happen if I let him keep talking.
In my mind, he spoke again. "We're alone. Aren't there better ways to kill time until they get back?" His eyes softened with lust. My decision was quick.
"Strip." I continued to point the gun at him. "If you want this, we're doing it my way."
His sharp intake of breath told me that he had no objections, and he stripped. He was already hard.
"Now turn around. No talking." He turned away from me, and I stood behind him. "You like this, don't you?" No response. "Good, that's right. I told you not to speak. Bend over the table." He did as he was told, his pale skin flushed with excitement. I dropped my pants, put the gun down within easy reach, and used some lube to grease up my dick a little.
I pushed into him hard, not bothering to stretch him first. "Such a little slut, Vernon. So tight. You like being told what to do." I heard him moan under me. My hand smacked against his thigh. "No noises, either." Then I fucked him, hard and fast, thinking only of my own pleasure. I wanted Foster to walk in and see me like that, in control, fucking a man. But even in my fantasy I apparently couldn't go that far. I snapped back to the present then. Vernon was sitting across from me, silent.
Cade and that reporter, Sam, came back then. She wanted him. I could tell by the looks she gave him. Hell, who wouldn't want Cade Foster? I do. Odd that I should have daydreamed about domination, considering how things turned out. But I didn't know that yet, either. We waited for the call from the source, then I watched Cade follow her out of the trailer, leaving Vernon and I alone again.
"You desire him, don't you?"
I figured there was no reason to bother with a lie, so I said, "Yeah, I do. He's still in love with a dead woman, though."
"Perhaps you should forget about him, at least for a little while."
There was no mistaking the husk in his voice. I turned to look at him and found that he'd leaned closer to me. The fantasy I'd had earlier flashed through my mind. I stood up. "Wait a second, Vernon," was all I could get out before his lips were on mine and his arms were around me. For just a moment, I closed my eyes and let myself pretend that it was Cade I was kissing. I wanted to believe it, but I knew deep down that it wasn't him. His kiss wouldn't be cold, like this one was. A kiss from an alien, taking advantage, as they so often do, of the human weakness for sex. Vernon pulled back, I opened my eyes, and I saw his face ripple, blur for just a second into something else. I tried to jump back, but his arms held me tightly and I was just thinking that since he was an alien that meant that Cade was in danger when Vernon reached up a hand and hit me, so easily knocking me out.
Next thing I knew, I was coming to on the floor of my trailer, Cade leaning over me in concern. I was left with one hell of a shiner from that little encounter. But we were both alive, even though that little blonde reporter failed us. Sure, she said she wanted to help, but I'm pretty sure I know what she really wanted.
He seems so agitated, so edgy. Even more than usual. I wonder what's going on. Is it simple impatience with our relative lack of progress, the depths to which the aliens have infiltrated? Is it the anniversary of the day he met Hannah or asked her to marry him or some-odd thing? All I can do, it seems, is wait it out. Just like our crusade to expose the aliens, this mood of his isn't something that can be pushed ahead of its time.
-More later, Eddie