The hurt inside is fading
This shit gone way too far.
All this time I've been waiting
No I can not grieve anymore.
For what's inside awaking.
I'm not, I'm not a whore
You've taken everything and oh I can not give anymore.
The music hits the inside of James’s eardrums and pulses through his head. The lyrics go down better with a snort of coke and swig of Jack and it’s these that give him the courage to pick up his cell and dial.
“Fuck you, bitch.”
James listens to the crap being spouted from the other end of the phone and dies a little bit more inside. His head is thumping in time with her screeching so he takes a couple of Tylenols and washes them down with bourbon. Doesn’t take the other pills, the ones he’s supposed to. They’re the ones that caused all this shit.
“Put him on,” he says.
“Put him on,” he says again.
“I wanna talk to him. ‘S the least you can do.”
Walls spin and James feels sick and all twisted up inside. He stares at the phone, waiting for that dial tone to give him some answers then flips it shut in disgust and collapses sideways.
There’s a sharp series of raps on the metal door of the trailer and James ignores them. There’s no fucking point to anything anymore so why should he give a shit about repeating his lines parrot fashion to a group of people who couldn’t care less? Once upon a time he was an actor, now he’s a high paid whore. He takes a couple more painkillers, crunching them up and gagging at the taste.
“You’re needed, Mr Marsters.”
That’s a joke if ever he heard one. James can hear the badly disguised ridicule in that voice. Everyone laughs. Everyone always laughs. Wanting the world to swallow him whole, he lifts his head and chugs down a couple of gulps of bourbon, then follows them up with a couple more. Seems a fair compromise in this fucked up world of his.
He’s listened to this same track ten times over now, loud enough to burst your eardrums, loud enough to make any self-respecting mom lose her cool and yell at her kid to shut the fuck up. He doesn’t know if he wants to run naked through the lot or wrap a plastic bag around his head – least that way he’ll go out with a good come. He settles for lighting a cigarette and burning himself with the flame red tip. Likes the way the skin shrivels and turns brown, likes the smell. He’s a sick fucker and he knows it, but it’s not like he ever said different. Maybe it’s best that she’s taking his kid away and moving to Europe. Always was her fucking goal and now she’s finally found a man rich enough to give her what she wants. Fucking chateau in the Dordogne – he’s heard they come ten to the euro. What she wants. What she deserves.
James doesn’t deserve anything. He never did. He’s just a short ass bastard with a big ass attitude problem and a few others to boot. Has a rep he does and not so much of a good one. Oh yeah, there are some of the fans who’ll forgive any of his shit but most are beginning to learn – there’s only so many times you can be wasted in public and fuck a selection of teeny girls without losing some of your popularity. Once upon a time he was just an average ‘in the closet’ guy with a penchant for kinky gay sex and a need to prove himself. Now he’s nothing but a loser who spends too much of his money snorting up South America. Earns more than he ever did in his life but what does money mean when you have nothing else? You may as well lose it up your nose; it’s as good a place as any.
“Mr Marsters?”
He crawls across the floor trying to reach up to bolt the door, but the thrum of rain on the metal roof of the trailer hurts his ears too much. And the nuclear decibel level of the song doesn’t? He pops the rest of his Tylenol and lies on the floor, hands covering his head, shaking with grief and self-hatred.
“Marsters, get the fuck out here now.”
The voice is bitter and twisted and so fucking angry that it sounds like his ex-wife has driven all the way down from New York just to make his ears bleed some more. He’s crying now and he doesn’t care who sees it.
He can tell the door has opened by the cold blast of air that whistles around his trailer. Four a.m. air – the kind that makes you vomit and shake when you breathe it in because it’s just too damn early. This ain’t acting, this is slavery. But freedom lies just around the other side of dawn and with it comes unemployment and poverty.
He hears the mumble of voices outside, inside -- who knows? He doesn’t care. His head’s pounding still and his stomach’s hurting and the carpet smells of cigarette ash and damp nylon.
“Get the hell up off that floor. You’re wasting everyone’s time.”
What did he say? James giggles. Last day and they make it end like this. He’ll make it end better. Wants to see Joss running around wetting his pants. Wants to see the asshole losing it over not being able to say his last motherfucking line. Wants to see his kid every weekend. Wants to die.
He thinks it’s humiliating when he’s picked up by the scruff of his dirty sweatshirt but then he finds out the true meaning of humiliation when huge fingers ram their way down his throat and he’s held puking over the toilet bowl.
Face washed. Clothes changed. Taken to wardrobe. Taken to make up. Somehow he remembers his lines and then he’s back in the trailer packing up his shit and making friends with Jack and coke all over again.
“Never seen you lose it like that. Didn’t know you needed this gig so much.”
James looks, laughs, thinks, hits. Takes a second to do all of those. Boreanaz thinks he’s crying over some dumbass TV show? Man must be more fucked in the head than he is.
This time he conserves his energy and just laughs and hits. He wonders if it’s like Fay Wray beating on King Kong. It must be for all the effect it’s having.
“Keep hitting me, Marsters. You’ve been wanting to do that for a while now. Maybe you’ll feel better after.”
James steps backs, knows he’s looking kind of perplexed. “Why the hell should smacking you around improve my mood?” The light dawns and he laughs and sinks down onto the couch, elbows on knees, head in hands then reaches out like a blind man for his pack of smokes on the table. “You think this is about me being jealous? Well yeah, maybe I am jealous of you for some things, but this--strange as it may seem in Dave World--has fuck all to do with your star quality.”
Lighting up, he sucks in a smoke-laden breath and it turns into a choked sob when he sees the photo on David’s cell phone as the big guy twirls it nervously in his hands. Jaden the boy’s called. Nice looking kid.
“So what is it about then?” asks David looking sheepish -- a little like Angel on a bad day.
James leans over and switches on his Korn C.D. then turns the volume down. That’s wrong, can’t play heavy shit like this too quiet, you don’t get the headaches that way. He takes Boreanaz’s cell phone from those big fuck ugly hands and wonders briefly what they’d feel like wrapped around his cock, jabbing in and out of his ass.
“Your boy’s cute,” he says and David nods, all proud father. James remembers that feeling. “I’ve got one of those. Well I did have before my ex-wife decided to mail me and say she’s taking him out of the country to live in France.”
David’s silent. That’s kind of creepy. It’s never been known before. He’s always the loud mouth. Always in control. Control -- a word that hasn’t yet filtered through into James’s vocabulary.
“Tell her no,” says Boreanaz after half an hour. Maybe not that long.
“Can’t. She’s got some shit on me,” says James.
“Damn,” says David, going way up in James’s estimation for not asking what the shit is.
“Yeah,” sighs James. “I’m screwed.”
“May as well be fucked then too,” says David with a sly grin.
“Wha-?” James is looking more than perplexed now.
“I’m asking if you wanna go somewhere and fuck. Call me sentimental but I’ve always wanted your ass and seeing as this is it-”
~~****~~
Ten minutes later James is a passenger in David’s car being driven fuck knows where out into the hills. There’s been no kiss to seal the pact. James doesn’t even think he’s agreed to this verbally but his cock seems to have firmed up the contract and so does David’s by the look of things.
“Where are we?” he asks, looking around him at trees, trees and more trees with a ramshackle building at the far end of the overgrown plot of land.
“Friends of mine own it. They’re out of town.”
Looking over at the derelict house James gets an idea of what the place is used for.
“If you got tastes you have to be careful - so no one gets a hold of any shit on you,” grins David, climbing out of the car and sitting on the warm hood. He takes a spliff out of a tobacco tin and lights it.
James should feel resentful at that smart ass comment, but he’s too busy wondering how diverse David’s ‘tastes’ are. Taking the joint he inhales deeply and hands it back.
“Strip,” says David suddenly with this smile that makes James want to come in his pants. Two of his kinks in one go. Things are looking up.
Conjuring up his own killer smile from the haze of dope and cocaine, he lifts his sunglasses and pushes them back onto his head. Starts with the shoes, every good stripper knows that there’s nothing sexy about shoes unless they’re black patent stilettos. Had a gig where he had to wear a pair of those once – and a corset and stockings. He sloughs off his jacket and throws it onto the hood next to David then slinks nearer and pinches the joint from David’s fingers, taking another deep hit of the spicy smoke then handing it back, as he leans in close and brushes up against the man.
Skinning out of his tee shirt James breathes in the fresh air and lets the sun warm his skin. David catches the genuine smile that flickers over his lips.
“As much sun as we like from now on. That’ll be cool,” he says and James widens his smile in agreement.
Sometimes he used to get bitch-slapped from coming back with his skin all bronzed from where he’d spent the time swimming and running along the beach. He still thinks that’s why they stole his wardrobe during that fucking horrendous time on Buffy. Payback. Most of the guys at least got to wear pants; he didn’t even get underwear.
He can still hear that Korn track playing in his head and his hips begin to pump along with the silent heartbeat rhythm. That’s what he likes about rock music, however loud and angsty it is, it’s always good to fuck to. Flicking open each button of his jeans, his cock springs out hard and angry and he shimmies out of the pants like a pro then kicks them off. No underwear. It’s not his thing unless it’s silk and small and delicate. There’s a part of him that’s kind of wishing he was wearing something like that right now.
David’s leaning back: a picture of indolence, arms folded, eyes half-shut, hand lazily lifting the joint up to his mouth, but James can see the slight thrust of the hips in time with his own and he knows that David’s hard for him.
It feels good being stripped naked, hot with sunshine and arousal, his cock spitting out a dribble of pre-cum that glides down his erect flesh. He struts closer, takes his sunglasses off his head and places them over David’s eyes then breathes in the final hit from the joint and drops it onto the grass, watching as David covers it with his Gucci.
He looks down at his cock and then up into David’s shielded eyes and begins to stroke himself nice and slow, his palm already oily from the glaze of fluid. He’s so close to David he can hear the man’s breath judder slightly as it catches in his throat and he knows he’s getting to the man. His left hand’s busy sliding up and down his overheated flesh and it’s making him itch inside for more. One handed, he unfastens David’s thick silver buckle and pulls the belt free with a grin. Discarding it he opens the button on David’s Diesels and pulls down the zipper until the man’s cock escapes, thick and meaty.
James licks his lips. “Thought you’d wear Calvins,” he says huskily.
“Do usually. Left them off today 'cause I knew I was gonna fuck you.”
James breathes in, stops his jerking and squeezes his cock tight.
“You knew it too,” says David.
Does it sound really moronic to admit that he didn’t? “No,” he says with a smile. “Didn’t even know you liked guys.”
“Mr Perceptive you’re not then,” says Boreanaz with a smile that turns into a moan as James moves in and rubs his thumb over that big prick.
“Mr Not Fucking Interested,” laughs James, then his amusement is extinguished by a mouth crushing against his and he sucks at David’s tongue and the kiss is bruising and brutal and everything it should be.
“Undress me,” says David when he manages to pull away from James’s lips.
James obliges, twisting open the buttons of David’s shirt and licking up the droplets of sweat that are blistering the skin. “Hot?” he asks, the word accompanied by a kiss to each nipple, tip of his tongue flickering over the hardening nubs until David is squirming.
“More than,” replies David, sliding the sunglasses down his nose and watching like a hawk as James removes the navy shirt and then shimmies down him like a pole dancer.
James is at eyelevel with David’s cock. He’s on his knees tugging the man to an upright position so he can slide those jeans down and cup his ass. David complies willingly, toeing off his loafers and freeing himself from his pants and James lets his fingers drift over David’s skin, gliding over hips and buttocks and nudging their way into the crack of David’s ass until the man is breathing in fast irregular gulps of air.
‘Nice and easy, James,’ he tells himself trying to ignore his own cock which is begging fiercely for attention. Delicate, silky kisses to the tip make David purr with frustration and James takes pity and licks long, slow swipes over flesh which reverberates to every touch of his tongue. His fingers knead away at David’s ass, sometimes finding their way to the little puckered entrance and skating over it, most of the time just squeezing and rubbing, squeezing and rubbing until David’s panting - the purr turning to a whimper as he begs James for more with eyes that are hotter than the sun.
James’s kisses slide to the right and he licks the jutting bone and hollow of David’s hip following the crease that leads to the temptation of nine erect inches. Loves sucking cock James does. Likes to take his time and rub his throat raw on a mouthful of hardness that throbs and burns and shows its appreciation with eruptions of spunk. Not yet though; first he wants to lick every inch of David’s sun-warmed body, breathe in the scent of tan and sweat and taste the tingle of salt. Wants to hear the purr-growl become a scream.
David’s turning now, collapsing face down, legs spread wantonly and James plants tiny kisses up and down the crack of David’s ass until the man’s moans get louder and he begins to grind himself against the hood of his Ferrari.
Lick kiss, lick kiss, lick kiss – James loves this slow tease. Loves the way David’s fucking his car harder with every twist of James’s tongue. He presses on – presses in, buttocks spread, face buried, tongue swirling, pushing, teasing, plunging. Wondering when David’s gonna remember to be boss. Wondering when the whining’s gonna stop.
Finally.
David’s upright now and James is thrown back onto the ground. The big man’s all pulled together, standing there hands on hips, his cock twitching and drooling.
“Suck me,” he says in his best impersonation of a dom.
James smiles lazily in reply and twists around until he’s lying on his side then picks a blade of grass and nibbles at the stem, idly pulling away at his cock. Making sure he’s wearing his best grin, he looks up at David. “Suck you gentle? Suck you hard? Suck you right the way off? Gotta be specific, it’s all in the detail.”
David leans over and picks up his leather belt, looping it and winding it around his fingers. “Get on your knees and suck me until I tell you to do something different. You’ll know if you’re doing it right,” he says, testing the weight of the belt against his other hand.
‘Good man,’ thinks James and begins a slow, feline crawl towards David who’s resting his butt on the hood of the Ferrari, all spread legs and gorgeously languorous. James pulls himself up David’s body which ripples with gooseflesh as skin brushes against skin. Revulsion or excitement? James hopes it’s the latter but he’s never too sure anymore.
Poised over that hard cock, he swoops and then swallows, nursing that prick like a baby at the nipple, down suck swirl, up lick kiss, down suck swirl, swallow. It’s a wonderful pattern that James has perfected over the years. He takes David’s balls and massages them until they’re tight and pulsing in his palm then slides his fist over the base of David’s cock and jacks it slowly, up then down - lick, suck, squeeze. He must be doing something right because David’s thrusting and crying out now and James takes a millisecond of time out to look up at the man towering over him, expecting to see closed eyelids. Sometimes guys just want another man’s mouth on their cock because they know how to make it good. Not so David; he’s clutching James’s sunglasses in one hand and his eyes are wide open to what’s happening. He could almost believe that David really did want this if it wasn’t for the last seven years of disdain.
James’s throat is feeling the burn now, his jaw is aching and he’s loving every second. He can feel the build up of sperm in David’s balls and the pulse of the prostate hidden below the taut perineum and he’s preparing himself for that expulsion of come when all of a sudden David pushes him off and he’s flat on his back in the long grass, knees up, legs spread, all ready to be fucked like a good little boy.
David’s on him like a hungry wolf, slavering over his body, biting into his skin, lips fingers, tongue, all rubbing over him and singeing him like fire until he’s delirious. He twists, arches his body, digs his nails deep into David’s shoulder and shivers at the feel of the soft tendrils of hair as they brush over him, moving moving moving, quick relentless and possessive. David sprawls, shifting lower and his tongue burrows into that hot, dark crevice, wriggling its way inside James’s body like melted wax.
James looks up at the blue summer sky and cries out as his cock is manhandled by David’s crushing fist. Thick, blunt fingers fill his insides, pressing deeper, making him come alive with pain and passion and the art of forgetfulness.
“Now,” he screams when his sweet spot is scraped and jostled and his cock is gripped hard.
David laughs and somehow manages to find lube and condoms whilst still teasing James with a harsh bite to his nipple or the scratch of a nail inside.
Kneeling in between James’s legs, David greases up his fingers and pushes two, three, four inside, stretching and scissoring with this pulsing beat that matches the song that’s been playing in James’s head the whole time.
‘Ready!’ James wants to scream, but the sooner he has this cock inside him the sooner it’ll all be done, so he lies still and breathes in and feels the play of the sun on his skin and watches the clouds pass overhead.
Lifting his head, James watches David slide the roll of rubber over his erection and slather himself with gel. The voraciousness they’d felt earlier seems to have quietened now and James licks his lips in anticipation of the fuck. He knows how it’s going to be. Slow heavy thrusts, sweat skin pressed together, fingers tangled, limbs entwined, crushing kisses, twisting tongues.
David leans over him and with one push is inside to the hilt. They breathe out this combination sigh of relief and need and everything becomes so still and quiet that James swears he can hear the trickle of sweat down David’s back. Faces inch closer and the deep thrust of tongue and cock begins. They play together, touching, testing the response to fingers and position of bodies. Then James wraps his legs around David and concedes to the power fuck, taking all of David inside himself and wondering if life would have been better if he’d been privy to the secret knowledge of this secret place earlier. He imagines spending his life rolling in the long grass and wrestling naked with this man.
Bound together by David’s cock, James manoeuvres them over until he’s in charge, writhing up and down on that thick erection and angling his body until he’s choked up with pleasure. Leaning down he takes David’s tongue inside his mouth once more, their lips pressed together so hard that he thinks he’ll come away from this black and blue. Sucking on that pad of flesh that fills his mouth he replays the day, somehow he can’t focus on the sadness that forced him face down onto the musty carpet, all he can think of are the hands that picked him up.
Slick and hot inside he crouches, riding David hard now, wanting to make it the best he’s ever had for showing him how to forget. Pinching David’s nipples, he licks a path up his neck, bites at his earlobes then leans back and watches in wonder as David’s eyes open wider and wider. David gasps and reaches for James’s cock, holding it reverently with both hands then squeezes his balls and strokes his shaft until James is panting and talking nonsense. They might not know each other but they know each others’ bodies, ‘As if they were born to screw,’ thinks James with a smile which is echoed on David’s face.
The fuck slows down as they begin to tire and they lie pressed close, moving languidly together, absorbing each other’s sweat and saliva.
James has this pleasant ache in his balls and he’s beginning to need more. Climbing off David’s cock he kneels on all fours, leaning in to kiss David, wetting dry lips and sliding his tongue into David’s mouth. The kiss lasts longer than they expect and eventually James pulls away and wriggles seductively, needing the satisfaction from being taken in this way. His cock swings hard and thick between his legs and he arches his back and shimmies his hips enjoying the slap of prick bouncing against skin.
David slicks more lube over himself then slides home. Holding James tight and gripping his cock, he powers into the smaller man. James is rocked by the force of these thrusts and he kneels up, leaning back into David’s chest and turning his head to kiss him. Pumping his hips David’s able to fuck and kiss and jerk James off and everything heats up to boiling point as the hot sun glares down on them and their skin reddens with burn and the flush of sex.
“Fuck yes,” cries James and David works every part of him harder as they watch together as stream after stream of come explodes from James’s cock.
“Christ,” groans David as he pushes James down onto all fours and force feeds him his cock snarling as he pulls out of James, rips the condom off and jacks hot splashes of semen over James’s ass.
Lying side by side they look up at the sky chewing on strands of grass and enjoying the after glow as they share a joint and a bottle of water.
“What now?” asks James. He may as well. He’s got nothing to lose anymore.
“I call you,” says David, rolling over onto his side and brushing the seedhead of the grass over James’s nipples until they peak.
“And we meet here at your secret place?” grins James leaning in for one of those hard crushing kisses.
“And you wear those silk panties for me that are hiding in your closet.”
DONE