By the Cipher Muse

5/17/01

SUMMARY: Nathan has a birthday and Vince... notices.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor did I create these characters. I'll make no money from them, either. I'm just trying to understand them.

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The pulsing lights of the dance floor caught in Nathan Maloney's bright hair as he danced, awkward but beautiful on his sixteenth birthday. The music was loud, and he barely heard the words shouted into his ear by the man he had come to think of as both his rival and his friend. It sounded like Vince had said something about Stuart; the man was gesturing toward the door to the back alley. Nathan thought that Stuart perhaps was waiting out there to give him the present he most wanted: a birthday shag. So he headed towards the back, wondering idly why Vince was following him.

~

Vince had been watching Nathan for some time. The boy's face radiated uncomplicated happiness, the natural exuberance of youth. It was easy to see what attracted Stuart in the long limbs, the glossy skin, the lovely face and full, pouting lips. The lad had courage, also, enough to stand up to one of the bullies of his school, enough to try to make it on his own in London. He was bright and brave and his life lay before him. Vince's own life was like a tight fist constricting around him at that moment. He felt himself expanding with emotion, ready to burst, and abruptly was on his feet and moving toward the focus of his thoughts.

~

The boy's spiky hair made it easy to hold him still. Vince used a firm grip, fingers flexing on the back of the shining head. It allowed the older man to control Nathan's movement while protecting his skull from the sweating bricks of the wall. Nathan wasn't fighting, too shocked by Vince's sudden attack to do anything but gasp. Taking advantage of the involuntary compliance, Vince pulled Nathan into a deep kiss, licking his mouth until it opened and tasting every crevice inside with an eager tongue. His own arousal insistent, it was still a surprise to feel a hard cock rubbing against his belly. Then Nathan was kissing him back, wrapping both arms around him, moaning low and erotically into his opened mouth.

The anger still flooded Vince's system, pulsing in his extremities with every grunted breath. Fucking Stuart. The image of Stuart's contemptuous, smiling face floated in his mind's eye. Vince had left Stuart Alan Jones on that suburban street with his terrorist ideals and his ego, but the sight of that smile remained. He could hear the lilting Irish voice as well, shouting "Coward!" The cunt.

The rage poured from him, turning into sweaty lust on the skin of this boy. This beautiful, young boy who was so fucking happy and free. No longer satisfied with the swollen red mouth, Vince hummed his way across Nathan's satiny throat, biting and sucking to make purple bruises that would be clearly visible the next day. A protest was what he expected, but instead Nathan just pulled Vince closer still and came against his belly in a warm wet grind.

The raw scent of semen made Vince hungry and he pulled back for a moment to look at his prize. Nathan sagged against the bricks with his head tilted to expose his throat fully, clothes clinging to him with sweat and his own juices. Vince's anger was not sated. He growled with frustration and ripped at the baggy pants, breaking Nathan's zipper with his hasty movements. He was no longer surprised, only satisfied when he received a sweet smile from the boy who turned around willingly and braced his arms against the wall.

Years of being the best friend to the Shag King of Canal Street served him well at this moment. The lube in his pocket squelched alarmingly when he pulled it out, but it did the trick. It was cold on his fingers, and made Nathan gasp. The condom slid onto him swiftly enough, but it seemed an agonizing time before Nathan's sweet hole relaxed enough to let him all the way inside the boy's body.

The lad was tall: he was bending his knees to allow Vince the fullest access. The brown skin of his neck gleamed enticingly, but it was out of reach. Rasping breaths were echoing in the alley, and they both moaned in unison when Vince began to thrust. Pleasure twined around Vince's cock and slithered the length of his spine, almost making his hair stand on end with the intensity of it. The fury was dissipating, and he gentled his hands on the bony hips, never ceasing the rhythmic fucking.

A trickle of sweat made it's way from Nathan's hairline to the top of his ratty blue T-shirt. He was moaning loudly now, and came with a cry that Vince felt in his balls as they tightened in sympathy. Another moment, a few firm thrusts, and Vince was gushing so hard he felt a momentary fear the condom would break.

Leaning against the long back while he regained his own breath, he wondered if he would begin to feel regret soon. But there was nothing but relaxed satisfaction in his limbs as he pulled carefully out and stripped the soiled sheath from his softened cock. Nathan mumbled under his breath, and slowly stood, holding his pants up with one hand when he discovered the broken zipper.

And then the wide blue eyes met his at last, dark with something unexpected. Vince couldn't name it, but he hissed out Nathan's name and wrapped his arms around the body that had just given him so much pleasure. Nathan was warm and large and wriggled in his hold, laughing softly. Instead of the heavy sensation of guilt Vince had assumed would come, he felt his chest expand with something bright and shining.

There were things, though, that had to be said. He took a deep breath and said the first of them.

"I suppose I'm part of your head count, now." And though it dimmed that bright feeling a little, "I expect you'll be in a hurry to tell Stuart."

He would have said the other things, like "I'm sorry I jumped you," and "You can say what you like, I deserve it," except for the fact that Nathan seemed displeased with his words and was snogging him wetly and not at all as though he thought of Vince as a ticket to Stuart's bed. In fact, Nathan was apparently prepared to have another go at sex in an alley with Vince, until Vince broke away to question this good fortune.

"What are you- we can't- what about Stuart-" but Nathan only said "Sod Stuart, " and grabbed him by his still-unfastened belt to drag him out to the street and flag down a taxi. Still in a daze it took Vince a full ten minutes and a good deal of enthusiastic kissing to say the right thing, the thing he realized later he should have said right away.

But he wasn't completely the sad bastard Stuart thought him, so at last he laughed and said, "Come back to mine, then." He didn't regret it either, not then, and not the next morning when he woke up with a shining golden head beside his on the pillow. Not even when he found himself required to produce enough breakfast to feed a sixteen-year-old appetite. And it wasn't regret he was feeling when he smiled a little sadly into blue eyes on his doorstep.

What Nathan was feeling he didn't say. Vince almost asked, but in the end it was probably better that they kept silent. After all, they might have said too much. And it is never a good idea to have a loose tongue around a king. Even a Shag King.