Rating: NC-17
Content: M/M sex, language, mild domination and a bit of torture...delicious
torture... Distribution: Don't mind, just cred me
Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue
Spoilers: Raw 05-04/01
Summary: Austin decides a little payback is in order...but finds out that turning the tables isn't as easy as it looks...
May 4, 2001
"That was pretty shitty, Mark."
Mark Callaway glanced sideways, straightening from his task of securing his gym bag in his motorcycle's side compartment, a ghost of a smirk flitting across his lips at the sight of Steve Austin standing there, hands planted belligerently on his hips, sky-blue eyes glittering dangerously. "Beg your pardon?" he replied, a dark-winged brow lifting in mock-surprise. "I don't know what you're-"
"Oh, cut the crap, Dead Man," Steve snarled in irritation. "You know what I'm talking about...in the ambulance."
"In the ambulance..." Mark repeated, the inflection in his tone expectant.
Steve's eyes narrowed in exasperation. "Don't play dumb, Callaway. You know exactly what you did."
Mark affected a confused expression. "I didn't do anything but what was in the script."
Steve snorted derisively. "OK, Red...why don't you tell me what the script said?"
"Attack you in the amby and pound your face?"
"Uh-huh."
"And I did that," Mark finished with a nod.
Steve moved towards Mark, standing inches away, glaring up at him. "And?"
"And...?"
"What else?" Steve prompted.
"I don't know what you mean. There's no 'what else'."
"Precisely! Which is why I'm so pissed off for the little add lib you did."
"Aww, come on, Austin," Mark cajoled, trailing a finger down Steve's bicep. "You're not really pissed at me, are you?"
Steve smacked his hand away, scowling sternly at the redhead. "Don't use that honied voice on me, Marcus Lucas Callaway. It isn't gonna work."
"You sure?" Mark whispered, stepping closer, cupping the other man's jaw and tilting it up. "Isn't there any way I could make it up to you, baby?"
Steve's dark-blonde brows drew together in a frown, endeavoring to hang on to his pique, but the way Mark was looking at him made it almost impossible to think straight. "Stop trying to get on my good side, Mark. I'm trying to be angry with you.
Mark gave him a slow, lazy grin, rife with suggestion. "Oh, but I'm trying very hard to get in...I mean on your good side, darlin'," he drawled, a hand gliding around to squeeze Steve's ass pointedly. "And you don't need to be angry. We could be doing so many other more productive things with that energy."
Steve gritted his teeth in frustration. "Why is it you always take the wind out of my sails every time I get pissed at you? Can't you just let me chew you out entirely just once?"
Mark's lips barely twitched. "You want to chew me out? Hmmm...sounds delicious."
Steve poked him hard in the ribs, eliciting a grunt of pain. "Stop that!" he growled warningly. "You just stand there and take it like a man, huh?"
Mark's smile deepened, green eyes sparkling mischievously. "Ahhh, so you want to give it to me this time?"
Steve threw up his hands in exasperation. "Oh, fuck, I give up! If you won't be serious and let me rant at you for what you did, then-"
"And just what is it I did that was so bad?" Mark asked, tracing the design on Steve's T-shirt stretched snugly over the broad chest.
Again, the bald Texan slapped his hand away, but not before the redhead managed to brush his fingertips across the very sensitive nipples, bringing them to instant, tingling erectness. "Mark, the cameras were on. Anyone could have seen how you were wiggling your ass on me like that."
Mark chuckled softly. "Oh, come on, baby...I could tell you weren't too upset at the time."
Steve flushed at the recollection of how his body had reacted to the way Mark had ground himself into his chest. He'd been heartily thankful that the groan of desire he'd involuntarily uttered at the feel of the other man's obvious arousal digging into him could be construed for one of pain. "You're lucky I was tied down, Dead Man," he grumbled, pushing away the hand that had crept beneath his shirt to caress the warm skin of his stomach. "I probably would have made you sorry for that stunt."
Mark grinned unrepentantly. "Suuuurrre you would," he murmured in faint condescension. "Anyway, like I said before...what can I do to make it up to you?"
Steve sighed in resignation, knowing he wasn't going to get to bitch at him any more, his eyes alighting on the bike, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, you never let me ride your bike..."
Mark's humor fled, to be replace by suspicion. "You know I never let anyone ride my bikes."
Steve's chin lifted a fraction as he leveled a stare on him before he spoke again. "You're gonna let me ride it. Now."
The other man's eyes narrowed, a hint of danger gleaming in the green depths. "And I'd do this because...?"
"You owe me, Mark," Steve answered promptly, stabbing a finger into the big man's chest for emphasis. "You asked me how to make it up...this is it. Take it or leave it."
"I'll leave it, then," he stated flatly.
Steve shrugged, turning toward the entrance leading into the backstage area. "Fine. Oh, by the way, I think I'll be staying with Hunter for the rest of this tour. You don't mind sharing with someone else, do you?"
Mark's eyes widened in amazement. "Oh, no, you didn't!"
Steve glanced at him in mock-puzzlement. "Didn't what?"
"You didn't just threaten me with blackmail."
"Blackmail? That's such a nasty word."
"Well, that's what it is."
"I know, but it's such a nasty word, isn't it?" Steve replied, his voice smooth as fine whiskey.
Mark emitted a low curse, pacing around the bike, occasionally flashing the other man an annoyed glare as he went. Steve merely stood there, arms crossed, a faintly amused smirk on his lips, eyes following him intently.
"You know I'll get you back for this eventually, don't you, Bald Man?" Mark growled softly, standing astride, arms akimbo as he glowered at his fellow Texan. "Threatening to cut me off isn't something I take lightly."
Steve cocked his head to the side and grinned. "Oh, I know that very well, honey," he replied in a velvety tone. "But sometimes a man's gotta do...well, you know the rest."
Mark snorted in disdain, abruptly turning, throwing his leg over the seat and settling down. "Well, get your ass over here an let's get this done."
Steve eagerly stepped forward, climbing onto the bike in front of the redhead, deliberately shifting to snuggle his rear into Mark's crotch, gratified when he heard the other man gasp, then utter an oath under his breath.
"Something wrong?" Steve asked innocently, watching as Mark slipped the key into the ignition.
"Fuck you, Austin," Mark hissed.
"Mmm, maybe later," Steve replied, leaning seductively into Mark's body. "Right now, I want to take this baby for a ride."
******
"Turn left here," Mark yelled in Steve's ear over the screaming wind whipping past them.
"Why?"
"Just do it!"
Steve obeyed, bumping over a rutted dirt road, cutting the speed considerably, allowing Mark to guide their way now. "You know where you're going?"
Mark grunted, his concentration on his task, steering the bike into a meadow of tall grass and wildflowers, almost glowing in the full moonlight. He halted, shutting off the motor in the center of the expanse, the ticking engine blending with the night sounds of crickets and cicadas.
"Why are we out here?" Steve asked in mild bemusement.
"Don't you like it?" Mark rumbled, wrapping his arms around the other man and pulling him back against him.
"Well, sure, but-"
"Shh," Mark admonished gently, nipping his earlobe before suckling on it. "Just relax, hmmm?"
Steve melted into Mark's embrace, purring like a contented kitten at the feel of strong fingers inching up beneath his T-shirt, massaging and caressing his stomach and chest in small, lazy circles. "Mmmm, that's nice."
"You like that, darlin'?" Mark husked, sweeping his thumbs over the stiffening nipples, eliciting a sigh of pleasure. "You know what I want to do right now?"
"Hmmm, what?"
Mark pinched the erect peaks, drawing his tongue up the cord of Steve's neck to suck the tender spot at the base of his skull, a place he knew drove Steve wild. "I want to fuck you right here on this bike."
Steve tensed, his body reacting instantly to the whispered words. "Mark..."
"Baby, you want me to fuck you here, don't you," he murmured, a hand sliding down to cup the growing bulge in Steve's jeans. "Oh, yeah...I can see you do."
"Mark..." Steve croaked again, arching his hips into the kneading palm, faint mews of need trickling from his lips.
"What is it, Stevie?" Mark questioned, tightening his free arm around him, leaning back against the rest. "Talk to me."
"Please...touch me."
"I am touching you," Mark pointed out, skimming his fingers across his belly for emphasis.
"Marcus..." Steve warned in a raspy voice, his eyes squeezed shut.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? I hate that name," Mark complained.
"I know, that's why I use it when you're being obnoxious," Steve retorted, then groaned when Mark unfastened his pants, dipping his hand inside to liberate his straining cock. "Ahh, God...Mark..."
"Mmm, that's better," the redhead crooned, stroking the hardened flesh with deft ease, marveling anew at the texture and heat of his lover, all steel and warm satin. "That feel good, sweetheart?"
"Fuck, yeah...so damned good...please, more!"
Mark chuckled softly, trailing his free hand down into the jeans, palming the swollen balls as his tempo quickened. "You wanna come, baby? Wanna shoot for your Marky?"
Steve whimpered at the silky, coaxing note in the other man's voice, spurring his desire even higher. "Please...yes! Wanna come."
Mark released him suddenly, gently pushing him upright. "Then get those clothes off so I can do you properly."
Steve growled in frustration, swinging a leg over so he could struggle out of his snug jeans, tossing them over the handlebars, straddling the bike again.
"The shirt, too," Mark ordered, digging the tube of lubricant from his pocket with one hand as he unzipped his leather pants with the other.
Steve glanced over his shoulder at him, his gaze caught as he observed Mark meticulously coat himself, his own stomach clenching in anticipation. "Wh-why the shirt, too?" he stammered, finding it difficult to breathe normally.
"I want you naked, Austin," Mark stated matter-of-factly. "The thought of fucking you naked while I'm still fully clothed turns me on."
Steve had to admit the idea was doing the same thing to him. He quickly stripped off the shirt, laying it atop the jeans, unable to keep his eyes away from Mark's ministrations. "Mark, did I ever tell you that you look hot in leather?"
The redhead smiled at him, a pleased glint in his green depths. "I think you might have mentioned it a time or two."
"Well, it warrants repeating...a lot," he replied, shivering at the cool slickness of mark's fingers pressing into his entrance.
"Thank you, darlin'," Mark acknowledged, splaying a large hand in the middle of Steve's back, silently urging him to bend forward. "Now, lift those hips so I can...mmm, yes, like that."
Steve squirmed as Mark thrust his long, clever fingers inside him, unerringly finding his sweet spot and brushing it repeatedly. "Dammit, Mark...keep that up and I'll finish before you start."
The other man snickered, but removed his hand, replacing them with the blunt tip of his shaft. He grasped Steve's hips to hold him still as he rocked himself inside him, his grip migrating lower to clutch his inner thighs as he sank fully into his tight, velvet heat. They both cried out at the feeling of filling and being filled, Mark immediately setting a slow, but intense rhythm, his fingers seeking Steve's rigid cock, now dripping copiously with precome, which made Mark's pumping strokes glide easily.
Steve felt himself twitch in Mark's clasp and he moaned, resting his upper body on the handlebars, arms draped over the other side of them, fingers digging into the steel wheelguard as his lover's pace increased, the plunges strengthening, becoming almost brutal in power. "Shit...aww, Marky! Yes, like that! Harder...gonna shoot!"
Mark abruptly withdrew, slapping Steve's ass compellingly. "Turn around. I want to watch you come.
Steve nearly sprained himself attempting to do as bid instantly. He twined his arms around Mark's neck, dragging him close to kiss him with a hungry fervor that left both panting. "Please, Marky..."
Mark gazed into those twin pools of blue and groaned deep in his chest. He shoved Steve back so his shoulders were pressed against the bars, then raised his hips and plunged deeply into him, taking a feral delight in the younger man's shout of mingled pain and pleasure. "Wrap your legs around me, baby...yeah, that's it. Now, hold on...I'm about to take you for a very hard ride." True to his word, he began to move in and out in short, sharp thrusts, careful to angle them to stab the writhing man's prostate, grunting with effort as he endeavored to delve as deeply as possible.
Steve threw his head back whimpering loudly as a torrent of delicious sensations cascaded over him, unaware that he was clinging desperately to Mark's bulging biceps, his nails drawing blood as they bit into the rippling flesh. "Oh, God...oh, God! Please...almost there! A little more...ahh, dammit, yes!"
Mark growled low in his throat as he pounded mercilessly into his lover, striving to send him over, hands drifting from his hips to seize his ass, jerking him up into the savage lunges, the bike nearly rocking off it's stand with the force. "Oooh, so fuckin' tight, baby," he moaned, hissing in a breath when Steve wound his braid in a fist and arm, yanking almost cruelly. Christ, his Steve knew just how to prod him into a frenzy of lust. He half-stood up, holding the other man to him as he lengthened his strokes, probing deeper and deeper with each successive movement, neither man caring that Mark was crushing Steve into the unforgiving metal of the handlebars. "Jerk off for me, sweetheart," he rasped. "I like to watch you touch yourself."
Steve obliged willingly, his fingers curling around his cock and pumping frantically, heels digging into Mark's ass, urging him on. "Ohyesohyesohyes!" he gasped, arching his body to meet Mark. "That's it...you're so ready to come for me, aren't you?" Mark cooed, ruthlessly clamping down on his own release, wanting to see his lover explode first. "Do it, darlin'. Spill for me...for your Marky."
Steve curved into Mark, reaching for the summit, nails further scoring the redhead's arms as he bucked and ground himself into him. "Li-little more...if you just shift a bit...ahh, fuck yeah, right there! Right there! Coming!" Mark redoubled his efforts, slamming into him demandingly, dividing his attention between the focused expression on Steve's face that he could never get enough of, and the furiously stroking hand on his shaft. His rhythm again deteriorated into short thrusts, hips snapping, barely pulling out before burying himself again. He practically whined when Steve abruptly bowed high off the seat, only his shoulders on the bars and Mark's grip supporting him as he gave a long, keening wail, coming hard, spurting his seed over his hand and their bellies, shuddering in reaction. Mark panted, stilling his motions briefly, savoring the spasms rippling up and down his cock, the blissful look on Steve's handsome features, the sated purr emitting from his throat. He withdrew almost completely, driving back in, stilling again, clenching his jaw, eyes squeezing shut as he erupted in a white-hot flood, oblivious to the guttural howl he uttered in the extremity of his ecstasy.
Steve caught his breath, eyes widening at the pure beauty of this man: head tilted back, cold moonlight bathing his striking face, the unadulterated triumph in his expression... Jesus, he thought he'd come again at the sight! There was an animalistic grace in the way Mark moved as he cautiously pulled out of Steve, reaching for his hand. Steve watched with avid eyes as Mark slowly, fastidiously licked and sucked every speck of his release from his fingers and palm, scooting back slightly and raising Steve's lower body effortlessly, repeating his ministrations on his abdomen, darting his tongue into the indentation of his navel playfully, extracting a harsh groan from the naked man.
"Shit, Mark...we're never gonna leave here if you keep doing that," he protested, tugging on the braid, which he still had ahold of. "Why don't we pick this up back at the hotel, huh? It's getting chilly out here."
Reluctantly, Mark straightened, letting Steve go. He sat back, zipping himself into his pants once more as he observed his lover hop off the bike and hurriedly dress. He slid forward on the seat, gesturing behind him. "I'm driving this time."
Steve shrugged, climbing on behind Mark, wrapping his arms around the big man, nuzzling his lips against the nape of his neck. "Hmm, I think I may have ruined your vest."
Mark looked down and scowled at the smears of come on the leather, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping it off as best he could. "Damn you, Austin. That was my best one, too!"
"Sorry."
"The hell you are!"
"All right, I'm not sorry," Steve said, his tone suspiciously tinged with amusement.
"You know what, Bald Man...fuck you!"
"You already did," Steve quipped, chuckling at Mark's snarl of exasperation. "But if you want to do it again, you'll have to get your ass in gear and get us back to the hotel."
Mark revved the engine, rocking the bike off the kickstand before retorting, "When we get back, I'm going to sleep. I've had enough of you for one night."
"Is that so?" Steve murmured, imitating Mark's earlier actions and cupping his lover's already stiffening bulge. "I think I have evidence to the contrary."
Mark smacked his hand away, annoyed to feel his cheeks grow warm. "Why do I put up with you?"
"Because you love me," Steve answered promptly. "And because no one can put up with your quicksilver moods like I can."
Mark snorted derisively, but he felt a glow of pleasure deep inside him at Steve's words, knowing them to be true. "Yeah, well...you're a lucky man, you irritating SOB," he stated gruffly, steering the motorcycle back onto the dirt road.
"I know I'm lucky," Steve whispered, his voice serious. "And I love you, too, Dead Man."