Date: Wed, 29 Nov 2000 23:55:22 +0800 (WST) From: Christ Sol Subject: Prisoner of Society (pt 2) Prisoner of Society (christ sol) -= DISCLAIMER =- this story in no way implies the sexuality of scott owen of the Living End. song excerpts remain copyright TLE and EMI. this is SLASH fiction. in other words, it's about a couple of punks engaging in crimes against nature. don't like it - buggar off. Shout outs to LadyFox, RisqueBoy and You Know Who (I'm gonna pierce my tongue just fer yew ;-) ) -=- 2. Groggy and content, I left the foldback station and walked out into the cool Adelaide air, stopping only to puff on a joint offered by one of the roadies. The air was crisp and fresh, hinting at the afternoons downpoar and I look up to the sky, the moon looming over me. A door slams on a van behind me and the gentle footsteps let me know who'd come out to greet me. "Got a light?" "Cigarettes'll kill you, Nik." "What are you, the surgeon general?" I turned around and smiled awkwardly into Nikita's amber eyes, pulling a matchbook out of the my pocket and tossing it over to her. You couldn't stop Nikita doing anything she wanted. A long silence followed, long billows of nicotine smoke drifting upwards into the clear sky, sparkling with the diamonds of far-off planets and stars. She broke the silence. "What happened last night, Jase?" The Thursday night that will live in infamy forever. I cleared my throat, jammed my hands deep into the pockets of my leather jacket. "I think ya know what happened, Nik. What can I say - I'm --" "Sorry?" "Yeah." "Why the fuck are you sorry? You've got this beautiful, charming, sweet funny guy who wants - who wants to be with you Jason. I wouldn't be apologising if it were me." "You think it's more than a sex thing?" Nikita looked away, and sighed. "Jesus. You can be so fucking blind. He can't keep his eyes off you. He follows you around like a puppy dog. And that little - thing backstage tonight? Even Chris saw that." She was still looking away, blinking away tears. "This is why I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you." Turning back towards me, she smiled balefully. "No. Don't be. I want you to be happy, no matter who you're with. I just think it's ironic. The two sexiest, most beautiful men I have ever seen, and -- well." I smiled. "You LIKE him?" "Doesn't everyone?" Nikita stepped forward and shoved her hands into my pockets, holding them in the warmth. Looking up into my eyes, she reminded me of everything we've had. Everything we may never have again. "Look after him, Jase. Don't fucking let him go." She pulled away, walking back towards the van. "Cause if ya do, he's fair game." She laughed and winked. I chuckled and turned to walk back to my van, and there was Scott. Apprehensively, I glared at him from across the car park. "How long have you been there?" Fuck, did I sound as cold as I thought I did? He recoiled a little. "Only a few seconds, I saw Nikita walk away. I wasn't listening or anything. Whats wrong?" I blinked. "Nothin'. Scott, I have to ask you something." "Shoot." "Are you fallin' for me?" "Like falling in love?" "Yeah." "Maybe. Don't know yet. Probably." I ran across the carpark and threw myself into his arms kissing his neck and face. He wrapped his asweaty arms around me and kissed me back, licking my lips and crushing me against him. Was that a sliderule in my pocket or was I happy to see him? I slipped my hands up under his shirt, rubbing them over his chest and belly. He moaned and ground himself against me kissing me deeply and soulfully. I knew it then. He wanted me. All of me. And all I wanted to do was to give myself to him. Shoving him against my truck, I grabbed his butt through his jeans, our mouths and bodies locked together in an embrace of love, list and everything in between. He reciprocated, pausing long enough to fish the truck keys out of my bocket and press them into my hand. I pulled away and looked at him. "Please." He was scared to death. I was stupid to do this out in public. Sheepishly, I unlocked the passenger side door, climbing inside and unlocking the seats in the cabin. When they were flat, I reached out for Scott, holding my hand out into the darkness. He grabbed my wrist and pulled himself in, wrapping his hands around my waist. All the while he was kissing me, his hands were roving over my lithe, scarred body, unbuttoning, unzipping, removing. Before I knew it I was down to my boxers and boots. He threw his own clothes off, and we rubbed our warm, pale bodies together, his considerably bulkier than mine. He opened his eyes and looked down at me, hunger burning from the within the windows to his soul. "I want you to fuck me Jase." "No." Scott stopped, hands pausing over my hips. He cocked his head at me. "But --" "I can't fuck you Scott. I'm , umm, I'm too - big." Inevitably, Scott looked down at my dick, at it's full ten inches. I wanted him, I wanted to be inside him, but that would mean hurting him and I couldn't take that risk why the guy I was falling in love with so rapidly. "Can we try? I dont care if it hurts, I want you man." I sighed heavily. How could I refuse him anything. Nodding, I leaned forward and kissed up his chest to his neck, relaxing him as best I could. My hand fumbled around in the glovebox until it found a tube of sorbolene cream. I hate this part of sex, the clumsiness of it. It always feels so dirty and wrong. I guess thats why I dont fuck very often. Applying the cream to my fingers, I reached around and gently probed at Scott, all the while looking up into his bright, deep eyes. I could have lost myself in his eyes that moment, happily detached myself from all existence and journeyed forever, deeper and deeper into the depths of them. My hand trailed down to my underwear, and I felt myself lube up. This was an automatic reaction, I even had to do this with Nikita. My dick's incredibly thick, contrasting my lean frame, and it looks kinda out of place on me. Admiring my man, I quietly smiled and placed my cock at Scotts ass. Wiping my hand on the seat cover, I wrapped a hand around his neck, drawing him down to me. "Try to relax." I speared my tool into him in a fluid motion, sinking it halfway in before he could pull away. Scott howled in pain, gasping and clenching his teeth. I held him still, massaging his lower back and legs with my hands, gently whispering into his ear while I felt him tear a little. Amazingly, he began to relax and stretch around me. I looked down in disbelief. It was like we were designed for eachother, and I watched in awe as I sunk all the way into him, feeling his heat and tightness. Drops of cold sweat dipping down onto my chestScott grabbed my shoulders for support and began to fuck himself on me in small, deep, circular movemens. I moaned a little too loudly, thursting my hips back upagainst him, fucking him as deep but as gently as I could. One wrong move and I would damage him permanantly. "Jase -- oh yeah -- don't stop man--" I was fucking him hard now, my chest thumping against his, making a wet smacking noise as we sweated and kissed and moaned together, steam rising off our bodies and around us into the cab. It was clear. We were meant for eachother. We anticipated eachothers thoughts and desires, we were totally in sync with eachother. Feeling an orgasm build from within, I grabbed my Scotts dick in my free hand and gripped it tightly. He bellowed and his cock exploded, just as I ground into him one more time and let loose with my own seed. The orgasm lasted about a minute, and when the fireworks died down, he curled up in my arms, his head resting on my chest as he softly panted. I was still inside him, the cosy feeling of being the closest I humanly could to him filling me with sensations I had never experienced with Nikita, Chad, or anyone else. We lay there for hours, cuddling, chatting gently to eachother. I found a can of beer under the seat and we shared it, talking about the highs and lows of the tour. Eventually, I pulled out of him. He bit his lip and screwd his eyes in pain, but it was over in a matter of seconds and once again, we held eachother. I kissed his shoulder and he squeezed my hips in return. -=- "But it's Friday I'm in love...." - The Cure. Fan mail to webtrash@unpunk.com