This story contains graphic and violent sex between males. This is all the warning I will give you. If you are offended by such material please leave this page now.


By Jack Llawayllynn

Chapter 1: Original Sin

Today was a day that would change Matthew's life forever, a day that would leave him aching and bruised and possessed of a new craving that would nearly drive him mad. But for now he was facing the rain and Matthew had always hated rainy days. He hated cold rainy days even worse and this one was a classic. He pulled up the collar of his light denim jacket and dashed out into the pour hoping to make it to the bus stop at West 42nd and Plum without getting soaked to the skin. Maybe the bus would be on time.

No such luck on either count. By the time he reached the corner he was wet through to the skin and no bus in sight. An elderly woman with her hair covered in a plastic cap stood dryly under a large umbrella. She sniffed loudly as she eyed his denim jacket, his cowboy boots, grimacing disapprovingly at the water running from his shoulder length hair into his stinging brown eyes and moved a step away from him. He ignored her and tried to stamp the water from his boots while watching his breath turn into icy mist. Damn bus, he thought, and helluva day to be late. The bus finally arrived ten minutes later. He clambered aboard and paid with a shaking hand. It seemed no warmer in the bus than it had outside but it was nearly empty so at least he didn't have any trouble finding a seat. He chose a seat well near the back of the bus and tried to think of something other than the cold. He glanced around at the few other people aboard.

Near the front was the old lady, staring indignantly at nothing. Two seats behind her was a fat black man reading a newspaper and munching a Twinkie. Matthew had seen him before, always in the same seat and always with a Twinkie. On down the row a young couple sat very close together, giggling and whispering to one another. Behind them a wino hugged his brown paper sack as he leaned forward, grinning like a fool at the couple in front of him. His head was cocked to the side as if he were listening to them, nodding gleefully every so often. Matthew shook his head. No telling what kind of earful the old guy was getting. Diagonally across from himself was a man with a floppy-brimmed black leather hat over his face, his head resting back. That was the sum of the bus's occupants other than himself and the driver. Not much to think about. He sighed and turned to stare out the window, absently trying to finger-comb his hair and squeeze out some of the water.

Outside the cars whipped by, everyone in such a hurry, going nowhere fast. Where had he heard that saying? He shook his head, couldn't remember. This weekly ride wasn't usually bad but today he was wet and cold and more than ready to get home. It was only a thirty minute ride, including all of the stops, but it seemed to be taking much longer today.

"Be careful tonight," Miss Sylvia had said as he left her place. "There's a stir in your aura." Stir in his aura indeed! He visited Miss Sylvia once a week, just to see if she needed anything or wanted to talk. Miss Sylvia was eighty-three and mostly blind but she swore she could still see auras clearly and read what they meant as well. He always humored her on that. After all, she was old and not many people humored her, or even remembered her for that matter. He had met her on the bus. She loved to tell stories of days gone by and he enjoyed listening so he visited her. Somehow it had turned into a weekly routine. His girlfriend Trish thought the old lady was weird and wouldn't visit her anymore after Miss Sylvia told her that she saw heartache in Trish's future. Trish would not go back regardless of all the guilt trips he threw at her about Miss Sylvia being old and alone and oh so in need of company. Trish would only shrug and say, "She's creepy!" He didn't even mention Miss Sylvia to Trish anymore.

"Got a light friend?" The voice was deep and resounded in the near-empty bus. Matt jumped. "Didn't mean to startle you. Do you have a light?"

Matt stared up at the man for a surprised moment. He was tall, taller than Matt himself and a bit older too. He wore faded jeans, black biker boots and a black T-shirt under a leather jacket. He clutched the floppy black leather-brimmed hat in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

"Yeah, I have one but I can't guarantee it'll light after my shower out there." Matt jerked his head toward the window as he fished the lighter out of the pocket of his rain wet jeans and handed it to the man.

"Thanks friend. May I?" the stranger asked, indicating the empty space next to Matt. He nodded. The man sat down, lit the cigarette and handed the lighter back to Matt.

"Name's Mike..." said the man, offering his hand which Matt was about to shake when the man added, "...but everyone calls me Sin."

Matt chuckled as he shook his hand. "I'm Matthew but everyone calls me Matt. Come figure, huh?"

Sin drew heavily on his cigarette. "Not much action out tonight Matt. Thought I'd head to Clancey's for a drink. Wanna come?"

Clancey's was a noisy place over on 33rd. Matthew had seen it but never been in. But then, he'd never had anyone to go there with. It wasn't the kind of place you'd take a date and he and the guys always hung out at Big Joe's. He studied Sin a moment. He had a long black ponytail that hung down the middle of his back and steely gray eyes that seemed to hide secrets but he smiled in a friendly fashion and seemed sincere enough. What the hell, Matt thought; I could use a drink or two. Besides, the guy wasn't as old as he'd first thought, maybe only a couple of years older than himself and was probably just looking for someone to hang out with.

"Sure, why not? I could use a night away from the tube. I've become a real couch potato lately. My place is only a couple of blocks from there so I'll just stop by the pad, grab some dry clothes and meet you there."

Sin blew a smoke ring and nodded. The bus shuddered to a stop and Matt realized that the next stop was his. At the next stop Sin let him out and said he'd see him at Clancey's. Matt dashed out into the rain and down the street to his apartment building. By the time he was inside he was soaked again.

He changed hastily, throwing on a T-shirt with a rock band logo, some dry jeans and his heavier denim fleece-lined jacket that he usually wouldn't be wearing until another two weeks into winter. Tonight was plenty cool enough for it though. He decided to call a cab rather than risk another soaking and was at Clancey's fifteen minutes later.

Sin was at the bar, two empty glasses already in front of him and a girl giggling drunkenly at his side. He spotted Matt, grinned broadly and motioned him over.

"This is Ginger," Sin said with an amused gleam in his eye as he wrapped and arm around the swaying blonde. "She's a dancer." He emphasized the word "dancer" as if it were a wonderful joke. She giggled again. "Ginger, this is my good buddy Matt," he said to her as if he'd known Matt for years.

She swayed and placed a lacquered fingernail on Matt's lips. "Shhh!" she hissed, then smiled broadly. "I ain't supposed to be here."

Matt was a little taken aback by the depth of her voice but he slipped a hand over hers, removed her hand from his lips, turned it over and kissed the back of it. "I'm so pleased to meet you but I didn't meet you here if anyone asks." He winked at her. She snickered and slumped against Sin.

"He's funny Sid!" she gasped between giggles.

"It's Sin, honey. Sin."

"Oh yeah!" she squeaked, swaying.

They drank a couple of rounds, danced a few dances with different girls. Ginger left to be replaced by Candy and Pips, who were replaced by Sunny and Renee, who were replaced by Frannie and Roxanne. By two in the morning the place was winding down and Matt was seeing double. He looked unsteadily at Sin who grinned at him and shook his head.

"Hey kid," Sin said, "I think you had one too many."

"Naw, Sin, I jus' need to shit down a minute," Matt mumbled as he went to sit down, missed the chair and sprawled on the floor. "Well, may-be one too many," he admitted holding up a finger and grinning sheepishly.

Sin hauled him to his feet and pulled Matt's arm over his shoulder. "Come on kid, I'll get you a cab. It's time you headed home now."

"Aw man, the party's jus' startin'!"

Sin chuckled deeply. "They'll be closing up shortly Matt. Look, I'll ride back to your place with you and see you in the door, okay? I hope you can remember your address."

Matt thought a minute, nodded, then wished he hadn't when his stomach lurched. He told Sin the address and Sin left him there to go hail a cab. Sin helped him out into the rain then had to manhandle him into the cab when Matt decided that he wanted "Jus' one more drink" at the last minute.

"No more for you kid," Sin said sternly. "You're going home to bed if I have to tuck you in myself." Matt wheezed with laughter as Sin stuffed him into the cab.

At the apartment door Matt couldn't find his keys. Sin searched his pockets, and tried each key in the lock until he found the one that fit. Inside he lowered Matt down onto the couch.

"Where's your bathroom man?" Sin asked and when Matt only waved a vague hand around the apartment Sin muttered, "Yeah, yeah, I'll find it myself."

When Sin came back he knelt down by the couch. "You okay kid?" he asked.

Matt nodded then let his head loll back onto the couch arm. Sin sighed. "Kid, I'd of stopped you earlier if I'd known you couldn't hold your liquor."

Matt giggled. Sin sat there a moment, kneeling down at eye level with Matt, regarding him intently, his eyes searching Matt's face.

"Wha?" Matt demanded.

"You're dead drunk."


"Come on, I'll help you to bed." Sin regarded him again a moment before hefting Matt to his feet. "You live here alone kid?"

"Yeah. Fucking sucks sometimes. I've been thinking about getting a cat." Matt stumbled and Sin righted him.

"A cat is a good choice. Only thing is that once a cat moves in it's not your place anymore, it belongs to the cat." Sin lowered him onto the bed and began tugging at Matt's boots.

"Oh! Ow! Not so rough you son of a bitch!" Matt complained. Sin got the boots off and tossed them to the floor at the foot of the bed. Matt's head rolled to one side and he looked at Sin very seriously. "Gotta piss," he said blandly.

"Grrreat!" Sin drawled sarcastically. "Can you make it to the john on your own?"

"Don't know."

"Oh shit, come on." Sin dragged him none-too-gently to his feet and led him to the bathroom. "Can you manage now?"

Matt nodded and headed into the bathroom but promptly came back out. "Zipper's stuck."

"Damn it!" Sin growled and struggled with the offending zipper with a scowl on his face until it came loose. "Flaming hell, are you going to ask me to hold it for you too?"

The door closed in his face, Matt chuckling behind it. Sin leaned his head against the door sill, sighing heavily. The guy was toying with fire and didn't know it. Sin had told himself he wouldn't do this anymore. He warred with himself a moment. He should leave right now. He had been lying to himself all night. First it was just a light and a talk to the kid, then it was just a drink with him, yet here he was. He had gotten in. Hell, this was the last time. He'd be gone before the kid woke up in the morning. Most likely the guy wouldn't even remember it and if he did, well, by then there would be nothing to be done about it. Last time, damn it! The last!

Matt staggered out of the bathroom in his briefs and T-shirt. Sin got him back to the bedroom and helped him out of the shirt. God, he should leave now, leave the kid alone, but his hand lingered on bare flesh. The muscles rippled beneath Sin's fingers as Matt stretched and yawned, totally oblivious to the lingering hand. Sin caught his breath. He couldn't leave. Not now. He had let it go too far. His hand slipped up Matt's chest, over firm shoulder to cup his neck, feeling the beat of the other man's heart fluttering under his fingers. Sin felt his own pulse quicken. Matt looked at him blearily, confused, trying to focus.

Was he drunk enough? Sin wondered. Would he fight? Had Sin himself had one too many drinks and could he handle the muscled young man if he did fight him? It didn't really matter, he was hooked.

"Wha's wrong?" Matt asked sluggishly.

"Nothing," Sin answered huskily. His right hand slid up Matt's neck to grab his hair. Matt grunted as Sin pulled his head back and kissed him fiercely.

Matt struggled against him, sobering slightly with panic. His mind was trying to race, to assess what was going on, but too many whiskeys and the disbelief of what was happening kept him from grasping any real logic. Sin had him in a strong hold, his hand still tangled in his hair, his mouth exploring Matt's hungrily. Instinct took over and Matt swung his fist hard into Sin's ribs, knocking Sin to his knees by the bed. The breath had been knocked out of him and Sin sat there a moment gasping, staring at Matt.

"What the hell?" Matt demanded, sitting up. Sin didn't answer. Matt balled up his fist and leaned forward, intent on hitting Sin again but Sin hung his head and held up his hand.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm leaving, okay?" Sin climbed to his feet, one palm pressed against his ribs. "You've got a mean punch kid."

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Matt yelled.

"Are you stupid kid?" Sin sneered, the anger welling up. Anger at himself. He'd told himself to give it up long ago but somehow it had happened again and he wasn't up to the fight this time.

Matt stood and swung hard, catching Sin under the right eye, sending him sprawling to the floor. Matt dropped to his knees and grabbed the front of Sin's shirt. "I asked you a damned question!" he snarled. Matt couldn't understand why he asked Sin the question again, hell, he knew the answer yet still he screamed, "What the fuck were you doing?"

Sin glared at him a moment, the eye already bruising. Matt was unprepared for Sin's speed and strength. The punch caught him hard, his head snapped back and rebounded from the wall and he found the positions suddenly reversed, he down, head throbbing, eye swelling and Sin's hand once more tangled in his hair as Sin straddled him. Sin pulled Matt's head back painfully.

"How about I show you?" Sin snarled back at him. He pulled Matt's head back until it touched the floor and his eyes watered. Sin's other hand found Matt's underwear and ripped them away. His teeth dug into Matt's neck. Sin's free hand found Matt's dick and he began to fondle him. Matt struggled and growled but his left arm had gotten pinned beneath him in the fall and the way Sin had him pushed against the floor all Matt could do was claw at Sin's shirt with his right hand. He considered calling out but even in his whiskey fogged mind he could envision the scene that someone coming to his rescue would find and he didn't like that picture.

Sin was fumbling with his own jeans now and Matt felt the other man's cock spring out against his thigh. Sin ground his hips against Matt's and the open zipper on the jeans burned the tender flesh of his thighs and pulled painfully at the hairs. Sin's mouth crushed down on his and their teeth struck sharply. Matt tried to turn his head away but Sin tightened his grip on his hair, holding him helpless to escape the kiss. Matt tried to gasp from the pain but he could not breathe. Sin was moving frantically now, his arousal getting close to its peak. Sin's hand found Matt's dick once more and to Matt's horror his body began to respond to Sin's touch. His cock became hard in Sin's grasp and Sin groaned deeply. Matt's head began to swim. The whiskey was taking its toll once more, the fear and panic were slipping away and he felt he was losing his grip on reality. All he could feel was Sin grinding against his thigh, Sin's teeth raking his flesh, Sin's hand stroking, ever stroking. Matt let the feelings wash over him, surrendered to the caress and arched against Sin's frantic rubbing. He was dimly aware of wet warmth spreading down his thigh but it was distant, oh so distant. He was caught by the passion raging through his body; his breath was coming fast and hard. When had Sin released his hair? It didn't matter. He felt Sin's mouth close over his dick and he gasped, shuttering, thrusting against the warmth, reveling in the feel of hot breath and teasing lips. His body roared with a lust he'd never felt before. He groaned and thrashed against the pleasure, found Sin's head with his hands and pushed him down harder, making Sin swallow him deeper. Even the tiny part of his mind that shrieked through the haze that he didn't want this only made it more exotic, taboo, thrilling. He suddenly could feel every minute nerve in his body as fire spread through him and he arched from the floor, arched hard against Sin, intending to empty all that tension down the man's throat. He came with a convulsive shudder that seemed to hold him suspended, his dick pulsing and releasing. He gasped, dove deep one last time and collapsed back to the floor, breathing heavily and feeling like he'd just run a hundred miles in raging desert heat. Sweet desert heat. He could hear Sin's ragged breathing somewhere near him. His head was spinning.

"Too much to drink," Matt heard himself murmur.

"Yeah kid, me too. Me too." Sin's voice sounded like an echo.

Slowly Matt sank into oblivion.

* * * *

The sun shining through the bedroom window awakened him. Matt blinked painfully. Shielding his eyes he tried to figure out where he was. His room. On the floor. Why? He lifted his head a little and dimly saw the shape of another person on the floor before he dropped his aching head back to the carpet. Who? He couldn't remember. A bar. He had been in a bar. Ginger? Was that Ginger? No, definitely not. He could remember Ginger going home. Home. How had he gotten home? His stomach churned. All thoughts vanished as it growled and flipped. He turned over carefully and climbed to his hands and knees. He crawled to the bathroom, making it just in time before last night's remaining liquor decided to remain no longer. When he felt certain there was nothing left to come up he flushed and used the edge of the sink to pull himself to a standing position. His body ached, his head ached. He looked in the mirror and was shocked to see a black eye and bloody bruises on his neck. Bite marks. Yes, that's what happened. No - wait, what the hell had happened? His confusion wouldn't clear through the fog in his brain. He ran a sink full of cold water and plunged his face in. It helped, a little at least. He grabbed a towel, patted his face dry, wrapped it carelessly around his waist and headed back toward the bedroom. Memory hit him just before he made it there.

"Oh bloody Jesus Christ!" he moaned. "Oh bloody fucking hell!" His head started to spin again. He hadn't done that! God help him, he hadn't! But he knew the proof was passed out on his bedroom floor. Matt sat down hard in the hallway, put his head in his hands and moaned to himself.

"I'm sorry about last night Matt. I'm always up and gone before I have to face this but I guess I had one too many myself last night."

Matt raised his head slowly to stare at the man leaning against the bedroom door sill. His hair had come undone from its ponytail and hung in a tangled mess around his face. His shredded T-shirt dangled from one hand and his other gingerly clasped a black bruise over his ribs. His right eye was black and swollen. A huge knot decorated his forehead above his left brow. His jeans were zipped but not buttoned.

"I don't remember doing that," Matt mumbled.

"Doing what kid?"

"The knot on your head, I don't remember doing that to you."

"Ha! That's because you didn't. After you crashed I tried to make it to the john and ran into the door."

"Oh." Matt sat there stumped. He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to feel. What and who am I?, he asked himself. He had always known until last night. Or had he?

"Look kid, I'll be going. I'll get my jacket and boots and see myself out."

Matt nodded numbly. Sin moved gingerly down the hall into the living room, favoring his bruised side. Matt listened as he phoned a cab and stamped his feet into his boots. He heard the door open.


"Yeah kid?"

"How can I reach you?" Now why had he asked that?

There was a pause, a silence that seemed to stretch. "You can find me down at Clancey's on Tuesday. This Tuesday only. Nine o'clock. You show up and I'll give you my number." The door closed with a click.

After a few minutes Matt got to his feet and headed for the shower. He turned the water on as hot as he could stand it and stepped inside, his breath catching with a hiss between his teeth as his skin scalded. He refused to think on the questions tumbling in his soul. The one thought he could not banish though was the thought of his father, a Southern Baptist preacher. He could hear his sermons echoing in his head. He could hear his father's voice resounding in the church. Hear him say, over and over, that line that his father seemed to favor so much, "Turn away from sin. Do not let sin touch the flesh nor the heart; for once you've indulged in sin you can never get enough."