by BA Tortuga
“Oh, gag. No. No bad fish. God.” MJ shuddered. “I thought you were going to puke up your toenails.”
“Lord, yes.” And other people’s toenails too. “This smells better.”
“This smells like grease and salt. We should be fine.” MJ headed for the door, looking almost chipper.
Amazing what happened when the small spaces eased. Sonny followed, rolling his shoulders. Damn, he should have drugged MJ up and flown. Hmm. With as much as they were making on this job they could buy a plane.
Oh God. Now that would be fun. With their own plane, he wouldn’t have to explain the whole drugging thing. Of course, it took MJ a couple of days to recover from the drugs….
“Huh?” he asked, pretty sure MJ had asked him something.
“I asked what evil you were working on, because you look like you’re up to something.”
“Oh….” Sonny took off his black cowboy hat and set it aside, rubbing his bristly head. “Nah. I was just pondering.” He opened the menu. “Oh, they have onion rings and fried cheese.”
“I need to shave you.” MJ ordered himself a Coke, no ice, not even paying attention to the look he got from the waitress.
“Yeah. Everywhere. This sweaty-shorts thing is getting gross.” That sent the waitress scampering away like her own panties were on fire. Sonny hooted.
MJ threw his head back, just laughing out loud. “You broke that little girl’s brain.”
“I try, Precious.” His foot found MJ’s leg under the table, the toe of his boot sliding up.
“You do better than try. Are you eating onions?”
“I am if you are. Unless you think it will burn… later.” See if he could break MJ’s brain too.
“It shouldn’t.” MJ actually considered it. “If we eat chocolate for dessert, it’ll cancel out.”
“It will. Cream pie it is, then.” They got another waitress, this one maybe ninety, far too old to be worried about a couple of weirdos making eyes.
“Cool. Dude, I want a patty melt and onion rings. Heart attack on a plate.”
“And I want the blue cheese burger and onion rings. And some of that fried cheese.” Yeah, they’d have to sleep off the artery damage.
They might could use a bed for that blowjob he was thinking MJ needed.
“Maybe we ought to get a hotel. We’re making damned good time.” He sipped his iced tea, doing the foot thing again.
“Yeah? I could probably handle being out of the car….” MJ flushed a little, shifted.
“I thought you might could.” The fried cheese came, and Sonny bit into one too-hot piece. Uhn. Melty. With sauce.
“Yeah. Close spaces.” MJ shrugged, shuddered. “Not my thing.”
“I know, Precious. We’ll get a place with windows.” God, he just couldn’t imagine being so worried about something. He just didn’t have that irrational fear button. Hell, he’d seen MJ with it. The man turned fucking gray and just got downright mean, eyes blank and hard and just… inhuman as all fuck. Seen him fight like a dog in a pit, no reason in him at all. Sonny hoped to God he never got scared of anything that way. And that he could help distract MJ from now on when it ate at him.
“Works for me.” MJ grinned, stole one of the cheese sticks, and chowed down, making a damn near cute little hum.
MJ sure could pick ’em. The greasiest, best yummy stuff. Sonny grinned and fed MJ an onion ring with the sauce too. “Nice.”
“Mm-hmm.” Those lips were shining, MJ licking them clean with these quick, sexy-as-fuck swipes of his tongue.
Sonny’s cock said a fine hello and howdy. That mouth just perked him right up. He crunched down on an onion ring. “This is the good stuff, Precious.”
“Yeah. I was ready.” Shit. Every so often he got a look from under those too-long-for-a-guy blond eyelashes that just melted his butter.
“Uh. We could get the chocolate to go.” God knew, he wasn’t much for self-denial. He lifted his right boot and let it press against the join of MJ’s leg, just the ball of his foot on MJ’s crotch. Oh ho. Look at those eyes go wide. Then MJ sorta scooched and melted, pushing right down against his foot.
“We could.”
“I like that idea. I mean, it would be a shame to waste the burgers, but if we got a couple big slices, imagine what we could do.”
“Mmm. Chocolate and your skin.” Now that was more than interest. That, ladies and gents, was pure-D wanting.
“Yeah.” He pressed down with his foot, just enough to feel good, just enough to twinge. And started on his burger. MJ watched him for a bit, just stared at him and ate him up, then that patty melt was picked up and engulfed. One hand dropped under the table, fingers on the leather of his boot. They stroked at MJ’s fly, the two of them, both of them starting to breathe heavily as they kneaded.
“Sunshine.” MJ stopped even pretending to eat, nostrils flaring as those hips jerked in little motions.
“Uh-huh.” Sonny waved vaguely at the waitress. “Can we get two pieces of chocolate cream pie to go, honey?”
MJ groaned, fingers tight around his glass, eyes gone all heavy-lidded and glittery.
His own zipper was rubbing his cock like crazy, making him squirm. The sweet lady with the huge hair brought them pie, and Sonny gave her a couple of twenties. “Thanks, honey.”
“You bet,” she said. “Now get your asses out of my place and go rent a room.”
“You have a suggestion for a good place?” MJ wasn’t one to be shamed, really. The man just didn’t have it in him.
“There’s an old HoJo down the way about another mile. Clean, cheap, run by a couple from India that don’t speak English and won’t pry. It’ll do for you.”
That sounded like just their ticket to Sonny.
“Clean and cheap. Sounds great.” MJ slid out of the booth, sporting wood like you wouldn’t believe, and grabbed the boxes of pie.
Sonny winked at the lady. “Thanks, honey. Best meal we’ve had in an age.” She didn’t need to know that every meal with them turned into a damned fine thing, what with lips and tongues and all that licking.
“Yep. Nice and slick. Come on, redneck. I have plans and chocolate.” Pervy bastard.
“Yeah? I have plans for your ass.” If you couldn’t shame the devil, you just had to jump right in with him. That was what his momma had always said about his daddy, anyway.
“Mmm… sounds delicious.”
One big old boy rumbled as they walked by, and MJ caught him with a look, and that man just sat and stayed.
That hot son of a bitch could have murder in his eyes one minute and pure sex the next. Sonny had seen it, and, man, it never failed to give him the best kind of shivers. He tried not to wonder what that said about him. So long as those eyes were in fuck mode when they looked over at him, Sonny reckoned he was safe.
They made it down the road to the hotel the hard way. Cockwise and drivingwise. Sonny drove, MJ shifted, and they each had a free hand….
MJ was whispering the most perverse shit, making Sonny jerk and buck as he drove the longest mile of his fucking life. He squealed into the parking lot, and MJ threw the car into park, and it was all he could do not to reach right over and pull the man across the seat. They were too exposed. “I’ll get the room,” he said, his voice a damned growl. “You keep it up.”
“My pleasure.” MJ threw his head back, heel of one palm pushing hard on the bulge in those tight fucking jeans.
“That means no coming either.” Fuck. He had to remind himself of that as he got out of the car and the stiff placket of his jeans rubbed him like nothing going. Sonny made short work of getting the room. He could apologize for rudeness later, if he ever saw the pimple-faced kid looking at porn mags again.
Which he’d bet he wouldn’t.
MJ had lost the shirt by the time he got outside, their duffel in one hand, pie boxes in the other. Fuck, MJ looked… tanned, ripped, scarred, hard, and ready for him. He muscled them both over to the room, growling and pushing, getting them
in and the fucking door closed. While those hands were full and MJ couldn’t defend himself, Sonny attacked. His mouth landed on MJ’s neck, and his hands went to open MJ’s jeans. He licked and sucked, pulling up a mark before heading south, teeth scraping one nipple.
“Fuck yes. More. Sunshine.” He could fucking smell MJ, all sea and sun and man.
“Uh-huh.” He licked where he’d just bitten before nibbling across to the other nipple. Couldn’t have just one hard, wet nipple when he could have two.
The duffel dropped to the floor, MJ looking for somewhere to stash the pie, heart fucking pounding under his lips. They needed that chocolate, so Sonny took the box as he sank to the floor and set it aside. His mouth slid right down the center of MJ’s body, right down that ripped belly and to the waistband of MJ’s jeans. MJ groaned, fingers sliding over his scalp, digging in and sorta massaging and begging and demanding all at once.
Uh-huh. Someone liked his sucking; that was for sure. Sonny figured he ought to get with that too, so he tore MJ’s jeans open and fished out that amazing cock, his lips sliding right over the head.
“Yes.” Thighs spread, that belly went tight, and MJ started moving, arching up and pushing into his lips. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Sonny. I…. Uhn.”
He’d never get tired of that sound. Not ever. Sonny sealed his lips hard and pulled, working MJ with his tongue. This was better than chocolate pie. And he fucking loved chocolate pie.
“Best fucking mouth on earth.” MJ went up on his toes and threw his head back, cries echoing in the crappy little room.
Yeah. Come on, Precious. Come on. He thought it instead of saying it, but as his hands tightened on that fine fucking ass and he sucked hard, Sonny thought MJ would know. Sure enough, MJ jerked, salt and heat spraying over his tongue, just like that.
Sonny licked MJ clean before resting his head against that perfect belly. “Good, Precious. Gonna explode.”
“How do you want me? ’M all yours.”
“I want….” Hell, what did he want? Sonny tried to get his overheated brain to work as he kinda sprawled back on the floor and worked at his jeans. “I want you.”
“Uh-huh.” Oh, good man. Helpful. MJ tore his jeans open, tugged them off, then got naked himself.
Naked was just a damned good look for MJ. Really. Really, really. Sonny started stroking his own cock with both hands, wiggling and moaning. MJ straddled his thighs, bouncing a little in a parody of fucking. Those hands joined his, fingers wrapping around and stroking him.
“I… oh. Precious.” Now it was his turn to make those noises, his eyes rolling like dice as his hips went crazy, his ass slapping the floor. More. He needed more.
“Yeah. Yeah, mine.” MJ shifted, quick as a fucking snake, and wrapped those lips around the tip of his cock, sucking hard enough that he wanted to scream. He might have, even though he bit his lip to keep from echoing through the thin-assed walls. His hearing shorted out, his whole body went tight, and before MJ could even take the next deep breath to keep going, Sonny came. Hard.
He just spurted, heat everywhere, MJ snorting and licking him clean, their fingers clean.
“Damn, Precious,” Sonny grunted, flopping back on the floor and not thinking about what might be on it. “You kill me.”
“No. There’s not that much money on earth. Going to keep you.”
“Okay.” He could handle that, he figured, as he finally heaved up off the floor and held a hand down to MJ, then hauled Precious up too before glancing around. “How about that pie?”
“Mmm. Chocolate. I’m there.” Well, no shit.
“You’re always there, Precious, when it comes to chocolate. And me. Let’s have some postdessert dessert.” He opened a window just a crack before settling on the bed.
MJ nodded, bouncing down beside him, dangly bits just dangling. Sonny grinned, very deliberately opening the pie, scooping some out, and painting MJ’s balls with the cold cream. The whoosh of air and low cry was enough to make him chuckle. All that pretty ink, and a little whipped cream to the nuts made the man breathless.
Oh. Ink. “So what kind of tats are you getting next?”
MJ tilted his head, grabbed Sonny’s hand, and started licking it clean. “Something not cheesy.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I don’t want your ass plastered with that cheese cheetah or anything.” That would probably get him hit.
“I don’t know. You could get it inked on your cock.” MJ snorted, bit his finger. “My balls are melting, man.”
“Bitch, bitch.” Bending, Sonny licked MJ clean, humming at the yummy cream flavor.
“Mmm. Yeah, but it worked.”
“It’s good pie.” Good MJ. He loved that man more than Twinkies. “Good all the way around.”
MJ grabbed another finger full of chocolate, moaning and humming.
Hell yes. Good all the fucking way around.
Chapter Ten
PADDY WATCHED the bits of ice shatter, the sound as they crashed against the inside of the test container horrible and wonderful and maddening, and fuck, he wanted to do it again. He loaded the liquid nitrogen again and poured and molded and unmolded and loaded and bang!
Which, cool—well, duh. Ice—but also, really, really time-consuming and shit, and why did people really need ice-cold instantly dissolving bullets anyway?
It just seemed silly.
And he wanted to make something useful like….
Uh….
Well, if he had more time, he’d be more useful.
And more creative.
And his fingers would be warmer.
Oh, he could set shit on fire. That always made for a quick-moving afternoon.
“Ice bad, fire pretty, hmm, sweet?”
Shit! He hadn’t even heard Neil come in. Paddy blinked and jerked, eyes wide. Oh. Wow. Neil. Hey. Pretty. Sweet? Him? Weird. Oh, wait. Fire, yeah. “Hey, there.”
He headed for the gas lines.
“What are you up to?” Neil settled in on a stool, slipping on a pair of safety glasses. They made his eyes look weird.
“Working. Sort of.” Not really. He’d worked. Really, he just wanted to blow something up. He really did. Boom. Or even bang. Boom was way better, though. God, he was bored.
“Paddy….”
“Hmm?” He looked over, having somehow managed to get halfway across the lab while he was wandering, and oh, Neil looked good enough to eat, except not, because who the hell came up with that gross saying?
“Come here, sweet. I have something for you.” Neil had that look. That little smile. I know something you don’t, that smile said.
“Oh? What?” Surprises. Too fun. He headed over, not trying to guess, because if you guessed right, you were smart and clever, but if you didn’t, you were surprised, and surprise was cooler than clever. Unless it was an “Ooh, here’s a big scary snake” surprise or “Eek, I have a cleaver” surprise, which didn’t match Neil’s smile, really.
As soon as he got close, Neil hooked two fingers in his waistband and used the other hand to take off those buggy-eyed glasses. Then he got pulled down for a kiss.
Oh.
Wow.
Hey.
Paddy hummed and leaned right in, letting himself just sort of wallow in the kiss.
At work. Weird. But cool. No, hot. Really hot, as Neil’s tongue pushed into his mouth and one hand landed on his ass.
If Bethy came in, she’d castrate him.
Paddy sucked on Neil’s tongue a minute, pondering whether it was worth it. Probably, yeah. Neil was… Neil. Yeah. Cool.
“Mmm.” Neil eased away, blinking at him, looking more dazed now than buggy, for sure. “Did you like my surprise?”
“Mm-hmm.” He touched Neil’s lips, just for a second, dissatisfaction just poofed. “You want tea?”
“I would like some, yes. If you could put water on.” That laptop bag of joy came out. “I thought you might like to try orange.”
Neil rummaged.
“Tea?” That was like Tang
stuff. His mother put it in a glass jar and drank it when she was phlegmy. Still, it smelled good.
He found the flask and the potable water and got to boiling.
“Yes, tea. It still has black tea leaves, love.” Okay, maybe not so much like Tang.
“Do you think oranges would still be oranges if they were yellow?” Black tea. He wondered idly if freezing tea leaves did anything cool to them.
“No, then they would be yellows. Or some such, I imagine.” Neil was laughing at him, but he really didn’t mind. It wasn’t ugly laughter, and it kinda tickled at the edges of his brain.
“Yellows. Cool.” He watched the bubbles forming in the flask, then blinked. Bubbles. Bubbles deep in the ice. Bubbles could hold things, if they didn’t break down the bullet’s strength….
“Paddy? It’s boiling.”
“Huh?” Ice didn’t boil. Oh. Oh! Water. Tea. Right. Lord. Time shift. Zoom. “I got it.”
“Thank you. Have you been having fun?”
“Been working. Been thinking.” Been missing Neil. Been wanting out to play.
“Thinking about what?” Neil asked him stuff like that a lot, but it was starting to sound less and less like a guy studying a new species and more like sincere curiosity in a personal way.
“Ice. Bullets. Chocolate. Halloween. Bubbles.” He poured the water, carefully not spilling a drop. No burning. None.
The scent of the tea really intrigued him. It smelled like tea, but like oranges, but not. It was neat. He got lost in it until Neil took the cup from him and pointed to his own mug. “Have some with me?”
“I…. Yes. Yes, okay. It smells like… vacation.” He poured another cup, the smell getting strong again, capturing him all over.
“It does!” Neil sounded delighted. “Like an orange grove and iced tea.”
Yeah. Only hot. And in the lab.
He nodded and tasted, the flavor surprising him with its bright bite. Lord, bite was a weird word for a taste, wasn’t it? Bites were for dogs and horses and camels. Oh, wait. Camels spit.
A soft chuckle had him staring at Neil, who shrugged. “I liked camels quite a lot, actually.”
