Content: M/M sex, language, D&S, whipping/spanking
Distribution: Ask and ye might receive
Disclaimers: I wish I did, but I don't own them, so don't sue me!
Spoilers: Smackdown!, February 14, 2002...sorta
Summary: Jericho seeks some Valentine's Day Vengeance, but ends up with less than sweet revenge. *holds nose* Man, that was so corny, I should slap Del Monte on this!
Notes: Big, huge thanks to Fek for betaing this and giving me the critiquing I needed to get this thing well and done. Grins And Dem for a bit of betaing herself, and Sorcha for helping me with the title and reading through for me. Thanks muchly guys!
February 14, 2002
"Austin! Austin, where the fuck are you!"
Chris Jericho roamed the halls, glaring at anyone who dared to even look at him sideways, occasionally grabbing a passerby to demand the whereabouts of the current bane of his existence: Steve Austin. No one seemed to know...or they were protecting his hiding place. He ground his teeth at the recollection of first being humiliated on camera, being made to look like a sulky coward, submitting to Austin's commands like some kind of...of...like his fucking bitch! Then to have further humiliation heaped upon him with Austin's attack on him in the ring after his match. There was no way he was going to let the son of a bitch get away with it.
He'd find him and show him who the bitch really was!
*****
Steve Austin stepped out of his shower back at the hotel, wrapping a towel around his waist and using another to dry his head, chest and shoulders. He touched his cheeks, deciding he needed a touch--up shave and went to work.
When he was done, he sauntered into his bedroom, dropping the towels on a nearby chair. It had been a good night, getting a little payback for Jericho's little stunt on Raw, and he wanted to celebrate privately.
He'd just popped open a can of Budweiser and settled himself on the couch with the TV turned to a Friends rerun when some idiot started pounding at his door. He glanced at it with a slight frown, not moving from his place.
"Who the fuck's beatin' down my door like that?"
His shout only earned more banging and a few kicks. Steve sighed, taking the time to down half his beer before setting it aside and moving to the door. He was still naked, but he really didn't give a fuck. If people were going to barge in on him, they'd have to take him as he was. He swung it open, ready to chew his uninvited visitor a new asshole.
He found himself stumbling backwards as a body launched itself on him. He fought for balance and lost it, crashing to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. A heavy weight on his gut knocked the breath out of him. He dimly became aware that the jerk atop him was yelling incoherently at him. He couldn't quite make out what, but he had the distinct impression it wasn't complimentary. He pushed at the wildly flailing ball of rage, grunting when a couple of punches landed on his sore ribs. Finally, he planted his hands over his assailant's face and shoved, sending him sprawling onto the floor beside him, gasping for air.
Steve rose up onto an elbow, scowling at the intruder. "Shiiiit! I shoulda known it was you, ya li'l bastard. What the fuck ya think yer doin'?"
Chris glared daggers at Steve as he waited to get his second wind. "You humiliated and embarrassed me on national TV."
Steve snorted derisively, sitting up, testing his ribs with his fingers and finding them none too worse for wear. Luckily, Chris's punches were a bit too wild and fury-driven to be very effective. He stood up and went to retrieve his half-drunk beer. He finished it off and opened a new one, turning back to Chris, only just getting to his feet. "Ya woulda preferred I do it in private?"
Chris shook his hair out of his face and dusted himself off with a few choice curses. I would have preferred you not have done it at all. There was no need for that."
Steve's brow rose in mock--curiosity, sipping his beer. "And ya think it's okay for ya to do it to me...on national TV?"
Chris gave him a thin smile, affecting his supercilious, 'I'm-larger-than-life, the-living-legend' expression, straightening the collar of his black-silk shirt. "That's different. You annoyed me, so I simply--"
"--Pissed me off, is what ya did, Blondy," Steve smoothly cut in, his tone mildly amused. "And ya did a fine job o' that.
Chris hissed another most unsavory curse, fingers curling into fists, then relaxing almost immediately, his expression becoming as calm as still waters, though his eyes still blazed at the Texan. "What you did was far worse than anything I did to you, Austin. You made me look like a...a..."
Steve's grin was lazy and arrogant as he drained the can, carefully setting it next to the first. "Ya know, yer pretty when you pout."
Chris blinked at the unexpected compliment and stared at him in consternation. "What did you say?"
"Ya heard me, Jerky," he replied, plucking up another can and fiddling with the tab. "Ya fishin' for compliments?"
Chris shook his head as if to clear it, scowling darkly at the other man, noticing for the first time that he was completely nude. He averted his eyes, jaw ticking irritably. "Put some clothes on, will you? I know Texas isn't exactly synonymous with etiquette and decorum, but even your redneck upbringing must have taught you some manners."
Steve glanced down at himself, then up at Chris, grin melting into a smirk as he popped the tab and downed a few swallows, just feeling the beginnings of a buzz haze the edges of his vision. "Why? It bother ya to see me nekked? Never pegged ya as a prude, Blondy."
Chris began pacing back and forth in quick, precise circles, raking a hand through his mussed hair, attempting to reassert command of the situation. "Look, I don't know what game you're playing here, but I didn't appreciate the way you treated me in front of millions of people out there." He waved vaguely to the door, making a tight spin around to head back the way he'd come, oblivious of everything but what he was saying, his tone both censuring and haughty. "Can you understand the magnitude of what you did? The guys in the back aren't going to ever let me live that down. I already have a problem getting any respect as it is, now you had to go and do--oof!"
Chris whirled around to make another circuit when he crashed head--long into a solid obstacle, bouncing off it like a rubber ball. He quickly caught himself, planting his hands on his lean hips and staring up at Steve, chin tilted up scornfully. He opened his mouth to deliver something scathing, but Steve beat him to it.
"OK, Mr. Legend. Mr. Larger Than Life. Mr. Un-disputed Champion of the World...what the fuck do you want from me? I'm right here listenin'."
"I want you to...to apologize to me," he answered harshly, gazing defiantly into Steve's glittering blue depths. "I deserve at least that."
"Uh-huh," Steve murmured, sucking another draught from the near-empty can. "You deserve an apology. Hmm..."
"Among other things, yes," Chris nodded adamantly, tossing his hair back over his shoulder with an arrogant jerk of his head.
"What other things?"
Chris ignored the faint menace underlying the mild, even pleasant tone. He stiffened his back proudly, a tight, disdainful smile on his lips. "Well, perhaps a bit of groveling is in order. Maybe kissing my boots as an added bonus."
Steve glanced down at Chris's feet thoughtfully, then back up into his eyes. "Ya'd like that? Ya'd be satisfied if I did that?"
Chris nodded again, sensing that he was close to a victory of sorts. "That would satisfy me."
"Hmm." Steve drank the rest of the beer and lobbed the can into a nearby wastebasket. "That's real nice, Chris," he replied quietly. "Only one thing wrong with yer scenario."
Chris frowned, a hand yet again riffling through his hair. "What?"
"Well, the fact that I ain't gonna apologize, grovel or kiss yer fuckin' boots to name a few," he retorted, voice becoming rough with suppressed anger. "I will tell ya what I'm gonna do though. Care to hear it?"
Chris's frown deepened. "No," he snapped back petulantly, tapping his foot in growing impatience.
"Well, I'm gonna tell ya anyways. I'll do this for ya," he said, taking a step towards him. "I'll whip yer ass instead. I think that's a better scenario, dontcha think?"
Before Chris could move to protect himself, Steve was on him, driving him back towards the bed with several well--placed punches to the gut and solar plexus. He shoved him hard, making him pitch onto the bed in a loose-limbed sprawl. He blinked up at Steve in stunned amazement that he'd had the gall to attack him. Steve casually barred his shin across his chest, leaning heavily on him and holding him down. "Dammit, Austin, what the hell do you think you're doing? Let me up!"
Steve ignored his demands, glancing around him until his eyes fell on the leather belt he'd discarded earlier. He grinned mischievously as he removed his leg and bent to retrieve it, turning back just in time to see Chris sitting up, rubbing his stomach and grumbling. Steve twisted a hand in the silky hair and wrenched back, eliciting a yelp of pain.
"Ow, Goddammit!! Let go, you fucking asshole!" Chris yelled, trying to yank Steve's curled fingers from his hair with no success.
Steve merely chuckled, pulling harder, hauling him to his feet. "Come on, now, Little Man. Like I'm sure yer used to hearin', drop yer pants and bend over."
Chris stared at him agape, eyes wide with astonishment. "You're not serious! You're not actually going to..." He glanced down at the belt and paled a little.
Steve gestured to Chris's snug red-vinyl pants. "Get 'em off or I'll do it myself...an' I don't think ya wanna make me do that."
Chris tilted his head obstinately, crossing his arms, eyes narrowing furiously on Steve. "Fuck you, Steve Austin. I'm not letting you whip me like some stray dog."
Steve laughed hoarsely, tossing an end of the belt over his shoulder, then reaching for the button of Chris's pants. "It's not a question of 'let', Blondy. It's gonna happen with or without yer help."
Chris growled warningly, slapping Steve's hand away several times until finally, he caught his wrist in both hands. "I mean it, Austin, you're not going to hit me."
Steve allowed himself to be held, looking into Chris's eyes with supreme confidence. "Care to bet on that, Little Man?" He was pleased to see the other man's eyes dilate and nostrils flare faintly. He effortlessly broke the hold and tugged on the flap, the button popping free of the hole before Chris renewed his attempts to stop him.
"Cut it out, man," Chris hissed, grabbing Steve's index finger and yanking it back. This only earned him a grunt of pain and a vicious wrench of his hair. His hands flew to where he could feel strands tearing loose from his scalp, leaving him open for Steve to finish his task of unzipping and peeling down the tight pants.
Steve eyed Chris's black thong dubiously, then shook his head and rolled his eyes before swinging him around and down, bending him over his knee, which was braced on the bed. Chris's stomach hit his thigh, forcing his lower body up, displaying his bare ass. He splayed his hand in the center of Chris's back to keep him in place, removing the boots and pants from around his stiffened legs. He tugged down the belt, one-handedly doubling it, smacking it against his other thigh, wincing at both the loud thwack it made and the brief sting. He felt Chris flinch at the sound and smiled broadly. "Ready for yer ass-whippin', Chris?"
"Don't do this, Steve," He implored, struggling to get his elbows under him for some leverage. "You'll only regret this later, I promise you."
He trailed the stiff leather across the lightly tanned buttocks, the tremor that rippled through Chris only fueling his determination. "Oh, I have a feelin' I ain't gonna regret anythin' I do to ya, Chrissy."
Chris stiffened, his expression becoming sour with distaste. "Don't call me that."
Steve paused, looking speculatively at the back of Chris's head, sensing a sore spot. "What? Chrissy? Why not? It suits ya. A pretty name for a pretty pouty boy."
"Shut up!" Chris shouted, again trying to work his arms under him, squirming frantically. "You just shut up, Austin! I am not pretty, damn you!"
Steve blinked at the vehemence in his words, but set that issue aside temporarily, his hands full keeping ahold of Chris's wriggling body. Suddenly he raised his arm and brought the belt down firmly across the creamy skin of Chris's ass, causing a howl of pain and fury. "Settle down, ya li'l bastard, or I'll whip ya till ya can't walk."
Chris stopped moving immediately, craning his neck to glare up at him. "You hit me," he accused with a mixture of surprise and anger.
Steve cocked a brow, again stroking the leather over the now reddened flesh of his buttocks. "I told ya I was gonna. Ya think I was bluffin'?"
Chris pursed his lips, saying nothing. He hadn't really expected Steve to have the unmitigated nerve to actually hit him, though he supposed he should have. Steve never backed down from anything and he should have remembered that before provoking him.
Steve gave him a self--satisfied grin before raising the belt once more. "Now, just lie there like a good little boy and take yer punishment like a man." He chuckled at his turn of phrase and proceeded to deliver a series of powerful blows that left Chris's ass and the backs of his thighs a near-incandescent red. He halted after a few minutes, listening to the cries and choked gasps, almost--almost--having a pang of regret...
That was, until he shifted his leg and felt the hardness digging into his thigh. Both of his brows rose at that discovery, then lowered in thought.
Chris shuddered, waiting for the next lash, face buried in the comforter. When it didn't come, he lifted his head and looked over his shoulder, eyes glittering brightly. "Are you done?" he asked gratingly. If you are, then let me up, you fucking savage!"
Steve stilled at the sight of Chris's countenance, slowly taking in each detail: the spiked lashes framing darkened cobalt eyes, the sweetly pouting lips, the still defiant tilt of his chin... Shit! He really was pretty. He had only been trying to get a rise out of Chris before, but now... He dropped the belt and rolled him over, ignoring Chris's grimace of pain. He stared at the front of his thong and nodded, a small smile curving his lips. "Ya liked it, Chrissy."
Chris, blushing to the roots of his hair quickly covered himself, his humiliation complete. "Damn you, I didn't enjoy that at all."
Steve grasped Chris's wrists and pulled them away, pinioning them to the bed, pointedly looking at the obvious erection tenting the silky material. "Uh-huh...then it musta been somethin' I said, hmm?"
"Let me go, dammit!" Chris hissed, refusing to attempt to free himself yet again. "Just let me go and I'll leave and we'll just stay out of each other's way other than matches. Is that agreeable?"
Steve contemplated the suggestion for all of 10 seconds before shaking his head, a secretive smirk surfacing, his blue eyes gleaming disconcertingly. "Nah, I don't think so. At least, not yet."
Chris scowled, nonplused by Steve's sudden mood switch. This Steve seemed much more dangerous than the earlier one. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I think there's one more thing I gotta do before I feel right about lettin' ya leave here."
Chris didn't at all like the toothy grin Steve was directing at him. It seemed...predatory. "What now? More whipping? Maybe you want to rip my fingernails out. Oh, I know! You're going to shave my head and wear my hair on your belt like some kind of barbaric souvenir."
Steve laughed softly. "Nope. Nothin' like that."
"Then what, for Chrissakes? Just get it over with and let me go!"
Steve brought Chris's wrists together so he could grip them in one hand, reaching with his other to begin deftly unbuttoning his shirt, much to Chris's consternation. "Well, it's simple really...I'm gonna fuck ya."
Chris's eyes widened In shock. "You're going to...what?"
Top undone, he pushed it open, laying his palm over the rapidly beating heart. "I'm gonna fuck ya, Chrissy," he repeated slowly, meeting his eyes with calm resolve.
"No," Chris whispered, shaking his head weakly, unable to look away from Steve's mesmerizing gaze. "No, you can't. It's...it's not right."
"Fuck what's right," Steve replied raspily. "I ain't never concerned myself with what's right before, I ain't gonna change now. I wanna fuck ya and that's all I gotta say about that."
"But..." Chris licked his dry lips before trying again. "But what if I don't want you to."
Steve's grin widened. "Oh, ya want it," he stated flatly.
"No, I don't."
"Yeah, ya do."
"Dammit, no I don't!"
Steve abruptly rolled himself atop Chris, pinning his wrists above his head, his free hand finding its way back into the abundant hair. "Want me to prove ya do, Little Man?" he whispered, feeling Chris's body tense beneath him.
"No...no, please." Chris despised the note of pleading in his voice, but at this point, his pride was the least of his concerns. "Please, Steve..."
"Ya know," Steve mused, shifting so their bodies fit together more snugly. "I kinda like it when ya beg. Turns me on."
"Steve, I--" Whatever he was about to say flew completely out of his mind at the combined sensation of Steve's hips undulating against him and the light flicking of his tongue along his jawline. "Steve..."
"Mmm, that's it, Chrissy," he cooed, tightening his fingers in his hair and jerking back, eliciting a whimper. "I think a good, hard fuck will adjust yer attitude nicely, dontcha think?"
"I...uh...I don't...um..."
"What's the matter, Chris? Cat got yer tongue?" Steve chuckled in amusement. "Hmm, maybe I can find it for ya?"
Chris opened his mouth to protest...and promptly forgot everything as Steve's mouth slanted over his in a hard, demanding kiss that left no room for anything but total submission. He whined in despair, then gave in, body sagging limply. Steve's tongue darted in and out of his mouth erotically, then commenced to plundering the depths, exploring and conquering all it encountered. Chris moaned as he began sucking strongly on his tongue, evoking shivers and goosebumps over his skin.
Steve raised his head, looking down at Chris and smiling crookedly. He released his wrists, tisking softly as he gently massaged the tense muscles in his jaws and neck. "Gonna make ya feel aaaalll better, pretty thing."
"H--how?" he asks in a small voice, still reeling from the onslaught of Steve's kiss.
Steve finished removing Chris's shirt, flicking it over his shoulder to land on the floor with a flutter. "Already told ya...gonna fuck you good and hard. Gonna make ya scream for me, Chrissy."
"Don't call me that," Chris muttered, only mildly irked at the name now.
"Whatcha want me to call ya, then, hmm?" Steve asked quietly, smiling smugly when Chris arched into him at the sharp tug on his nipples.
"I...I don't know--oh, that's good!" Chris's head lolled to the side, eyes squeezing shut, little sparkles of pleasure radiating through his chest as Steve lowered his head to fasten onto one of the stiffened nubs.
Steve tongued the hard nipple, closing his teeth on it and pulling, extracting a hitching gasp. "Like that?" he husked, lifting his mouth to move to the other one, laving it thoroughly. "Like me playin' with yer nips, hmmm?"
Chris couldn't reply, his brain having shut down under the assault. All he could do was mewl and arch into the sensations.
Releasing the swollen nipple, Steve began scattering nipping kisses down his torso, intensely aroused by the soft kittenish mews he was emitting. "Mmm, yeah...ya like what I'm doin', dontcha? Talk to me, Chrissy."
Chris opened his mouth, panting raggedly, attempting several times to speak and failing. Finally he managed a strained, "Steve..."
He looked up, resting on an elbow, fingertips skimming over Chris's abdomen in idle swirls. "Yeah?"
Chris turned his head to meet Steve's eyes, his own wide and full of need. "Please."
He paused, studying Chris's features silently for a long moment, then resumed his motions, tracing the skin just above the waistline of the thong, now bulging prominently. "What?"
Chris cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably, averting his eyes from the intent stare. "I...uh...will you--"
"What?"
Chris's cheeks flared with color, flashing him an exasperated look, sensing that he was being teased. "Quit that."
"What?" Steve grinned broadly, a dimple peeking out, eyes dancing with humor.
"You're an assmunch, Austin," Chris grumbled irritably.
"Hmm, assmunch?" Steve repeated, hooking an index finger in the waistband of the thong and drawing it down, exposing the head of the leaking cock. "Want me to munch yer ass, Chrissy? I could do that for ya, though you may be a li'l sorry I did."
A shiver rippled through Chris as Steve's warm breath puffed against his sensitized skin. "Wh--why's that?"
"'Cuz I've been told that I can be kinda..." he shrugs and smirks unrepentantly as he finished, "well, let's jus' say I want what I want and I don't stop till I get it."
Chris frowned, slightly bewildered. "And just what is it you want?"
"To have 'em beggin' for me to let 'em come."
Chris blinked at that, shifting again, his breath catching as Steve's thumb whispered across the tip of his shaft. "You mean...you mean you torture them?"
Steve chuckled seductively, popping his thumb into his mouth and noisily sucking it clean of Chris's precome. "I wouldn't go so far as that. I jus' like to draw it out for the best results. Haven't ya ever stopped yerself from comin', let the pleasure build until ya can't bear it anymore...then force yerself to hold it a li'l longer? Fuck, when ya finally let loose, it's sensational. Mind--blowin'ly intense."
Chris's body tingled, stomach contracting at Steve's words, eyes fixed on the wet thumb now circling his navel. "I--uh--no."
"Too bad," Steve quipped, abruptly grasping the sides of the thong and tearing them off. "Ya don't know what yer missin'. But then, most people don't. That's why I have to educate 'em. If yer with me, ya don't come until I wantcha to."
"That's...that's cruel," Chris said, then squeaked when Steve enclosed the head of his cock in his mouth. He gave up coherency for mindless moaning as Steve proceeded to give him the most thorough blowjob he'd ever experienced. He clutched at the back of Steve's head, scrabbling for some purchase and finding none. 'Fuck, Austin, you need something I can hold onto!" he whined, then panted in relief when he latched onto his ears. He ignored the grunt of protest, wailing as he was deep--throated with consummate skill. "Jesus fuck! Austin, what are you doing to me?!"
Steve hummed his answer, bobbing in slow, deliberate strokes, resisting Chris's impatient yanks on his ears to hurry. Finally fed up, he once again grabbed Chris's wrists and pinned them to his sides, much to his frustration.
"God dammit...oh, yeah, like that...harder...shit, let me go!"
Steve slowly drew up the length of him, cheeks hollowing with the strength of his suction, Chris's hips rising right along with him, helplessly twitching, on the brink of release, but not quite there. He popped the head out of his mouth and sat back, faintly smiling as Chris tried desperately to regain some control over himself.
"You shithead, why'd you stop? I was almost there!" Chris whimpered, hands still trapped under Steve's.
"I already told ya," he murmured, nudging Chris's thighs wider apart. "Ya don't come until I wantcha to."
He hurled a string of curses that even impressed Steve with their colorful inventiveness. "You're a damned pricktease, Austin, that's what you are!" he snarled, trying to twist his hands free, to no avail.
Steve nodded in acceptance, his grin vastly smug as he resettled between his thighs. "Damned straight. My specialty, ya know. Well, one of 'em anyway." He snickered, then nuzzled Chris's groin, humming in appreciation as his nose rubbed against the soft curls.
Chris squirmed, hips curving up, seeking more friction. "Come on, come on, come on!" he hissed curtly. "Quit tormenting me and finish me, damn your eyes!"
"Keep talkin' to me like that and ya ain't gonna come at all tonight," he shot back, smiling at Chris's snarled curse. He suddenly sat up, releasing him and scooting to the top of the bed. He leaned his back against the headboard, crooking a finger to Chris. "C'mere and return the favor I did ya."
Chris sniffed contemptuously, rising up onto an elbow and staring narrowly at him. "Why should I? You haven't exactly been too forthcoming, so to speak."
"If ya wanna be comin' forth, ya'll get yer ass over here and suck my dick," Steve drawled, his tone as smooth and rich as velvety dark chocolate, but there was no mistaking the underlying steel..
Chris wrinkled his nose in disdain. "You're so crude, Austin."
Steve smirked. "Ya love me anyway."
Chris rolled his eyes. "Please, I find it hard to believe your own mother loves you, Austin."
"You'd be surprised, Blondy," Steve murmured, watching as Chris moved to crawl up between his spread legs, his hands braced on either side of his hips. "I got plenty of people after me."
"Steve, I hate to break this to you," Chris began, his lashes lowering almost coyly. "But I believe they're after you to kick your ass, not have you fuck theirs."
Steve snorted, twining his fingers in the blond tresses and jerking severely, eliciting a yelp and glare. "Behave yerself, Little Man. Now, why dontcha put that smartass mouth to better use and gimme head, huh?"
"aren't you afraid I'll bite you?" he asked sweetly, eyes guiless.
"No," he answered with certainty. "Ya won't do that because you know ya'd never leave this room with all yer limbs intact."
A delicious little thrill ran down Chris's spine at the utter conviction in that statement and he knew, without a doubt, that he was sincere. He nodded, dropping his eyes in unspoken submission. "I'll accept that."
"Then what are ya waitin' for?"
Chris sank down until his weight rested on his forearms, his hair feathering over Steve's lower abdomen and thighs. He darted his tongue out, spiraling it around the head of Steve's shaft, tasting the dark essence of him.
"Go on, now...suck it," he growled, shoving his hair away so he could watch. He groaned as Chris's lips enveloped him tightly. "Oh, fuck...unnn..."
Chris was surprised to feel a pang of gratification at Steve's response. He relaxed his throat muscles and took more of him, seeking to draw more of those noises from him. His fingers glided over the smooth skin of his hips, then around to cup his balls, gently rolling them in his palms.
"Awww...Chrissy...fuuuuck! That's good...uh-huh...suck it..."
Chris swallowed and bobbed, getting into the rhythm, humming softly, whimpering in delight at Steve's wrenches to his hair.
"That's it...suck it, my li'l bitch. Suck it good." Steve panted and groaned, hips rocking up into his strokes, then shoving him off abruptly. "That's enough of that."
Chris shook the hair out of his eyes and stared up at him in bemusement. "Huh? What--"
"If I ain't lettin' ya come, then I ain't comin' before ya," he ground out, yanking open the nightstand drawer and snatching out the tube of Astroglide. He turned back to Chris who was up on his hands and knees, unsure as to what Steve wanted him to do next. "Right there. Stay jus' like that. God, yer sexy in that position."
Chris looked at him from under his lashes, a faint smirk on his lips. "Of course you like all your lovers like this, don't you? Makes you feel macho, treating them like your dog bitches, hmm?"
Steve ignored the quiet venom in his tone, frowning when he sat back on his haunches and crossed his arms over his chest. He sighed at the return of the haughty expression. "Give it up, Chrissy. There ain't no escapin' the fact that you will be--are--my bitch. Jus' accept it and enjoy it."
Chris raked him with a scornful glance. "I'm nobody's bitch, but I will let you fuck me. It's what we both want, I'll grant you."
Steve prowled toward him, again entrenching his hand in Chris's locks and twisting until he was back in the position he wanted. "Oh, yeah, I wanna fuck ya all right, but for the record, ya are my bitch." When Chris started to object, he whacked him on the ass, which silenced him immediately. He released him as he moved in behind him. He flipped open the cap on the tube and squirted some of the gel onto his fingers, warming it a little before dropping the tube to the coverlet.
Chris grew rigid as he felt Steve's slippery fingers probing him. He grimaced in pain as two digits pushed their way inside him, stretching and loosening, a process he'd never quite gotten used to, no matter how many times it was done. He relaxed as it faded to a faint burning, then uttered a throaty moan as his prostate was nudged, his head dropping, hair curtaining his face.
"Like that? Hittin' yer sweet spot, am I? *Steve rumbled hoarsely. He massaged the small of his back with his free hand as he added another finger. "Ohh, baby, yer so tight. Can't wait to sink my cock in ya." Silence reigned for a while, except for harsh breathing and occasional moans. Then, Steve thrust his fingers harder, gratified to see Chris rock back into it.
Chris's head came up, ragged whimpers punctuating his shallow pants. "Ahh, Jesus, Austin...fuck me already. Need to fucking come."
Steve laughed, continuing to finger him, tickling his walls, pressing on his prostate, enjoying the cries and bucking this elicited. "How many times I gotta tell ya...ya come when I tell ya."
"God, I loathe you," Chris spat, then instantly shuddered, giving a loud groan at Steve's clever touch. "Damn you!"
Steve pinched his sore ass viciously. "Talk nice, Chrissy," he admonished. "I can keep this up all night."
"If you don't want me to end up raping you, Baldy, you'll finish what you started...and soon," Chris warned sibilantly.
"Is that supposed to scare me? Intimidate me?" he scoffed, jerking his hand from Chris, disregarding the hiss of pain this caused him. He picked up the tube again, squeezing a more liberal amount into his hand. Once more discarding the tube, he slowly coated himself, savoring the feel of his fist pumping his flesh. He rose up over Chris, molding himself against his back and hips. "Gonna give ya what ya want now, Chrissy," he whispered in Chris's ear.
Chris turned his head towards the voice. "It's about ti---oh shit...oh holy fuck!"" He wailed as Steve glided into him in one long stroke, sheathing himself completely. He gasped, trying to breathe through the agony, then, before he was fully adjusted, he reared back into Steve, snarling ferociously. "Do it! Fuck me, Goddamn you!"
Steve grunted in surprise at Chris's fierceness, but relished it as he withdrew and slammed back into him. He grasped handfuls of Chris's hair and hauled back, riding him brutally. "Ahh, ya love me takin' ya like my bitch dog, huh. Christ, yer fuckin' tight!"
Chris emitted a low keening whine, pushing back into the thrusts eagerly. "I didn't know---shit, right there---you fucked your dog, Austin. That's si---oh, God, baby, don't stop---sick!"
"Ya fuckin' smartass," Steve growled again wrenching on the hair. "Ya know what I mean. Don't be ob---ob---"
"I think the word you're looking for is...is...oh, fuck, forget it! Make me come you redneck savage!"
Steve groaned harshly. "ya'll...fuckin'...come...when...I want...ya to."
"When will you want me to?" he whimpered, not once thinking about hurrying things along by jacking himself off. "Need it so bad, Stevie...please?"
"Shiiiit!" Steve hissed, pulling out and shoving Chris onto his back. He hooked a forearm under one of Chris's knees and lifted, settling the calf on his shoulder. He gripped his hips and lunged back into him, the resulting howl intensely satisfying. "All right, ya li'l bitch...shoot for me. Come yer li'l heart out."
Chris nearly sobbed under the onslaught of Steve's pounding hips, fingers digging into his biceps desperately. "Ahh, God! Jesus, yeah---yeah! Almost there...don't you dare fucking stop!" Steve shifted the angle of his driving plunges, closing a slicked fist over the bobbing cock, matching his tempo with the pumping. Chris practically shot into orbit, body bowing high off the bed as he exploded with a shriek.
Steve grunted at the feel of Chris's release, the molten come streaming over his knuckles spurring his own release closer. "Oooh, yeah, baby...ya come so pretty. Get ready for me. Gonna fill ya up, Chrissy."
Chris panted raggedly, raising his other leg to curl around Steve's working hips. "Come on, you bastard," he snarled, lifting his hips enticingly. "Do it! Shoot up my ass, you son of a bitch.!"
Steve gave several erratic lunges , roaring as he finally erupted into him in a volcanic rush. "Ahh, God...ahh, fuck..." He rocked into him jerkily for a few moments longer before collapsing, shuddering on top of Chris with a soft groan.
Chris clung to Steve, fighting to regain his breath. "Good holy fuck, Austin," he mumbled into the other man's neck.
Steve rumbled tired laughter. "I don't know about 'holy', but it damned sure straight was a good fuck."
Chris had no arguments whatsoever there and hummed his agreement. He slid his hands up his arms and around to stroke Steve's nape and scalp, pleased by the raspy purr this drew from him. Stevie?"
"Hmm?" he murmured, strangely liking the modification of his name from Chris.
"Apology accepted."
Steve lay still for a long time, brain deliciously fuzzy with satiation before Chris's words sank in. He stiffened and lifted his head, his trademark scowl marring his brow. "The fuck? I ain't apologized to ya."
Chris's lips curled into a languid, self-satisfied smirk, lids heavy with exertion. "Oh, maybe not in so many words, no."
"Not in words or action, neither, ya li'l blond bastard," Steve growled, startled when he heard himself purr again at the feel of the tip of Chris's thumb skimming over a very sensitive spot just behind his left ear.
"Uh-huh...sure...okay," Chris crooned, unconvinced.
"I shoulda whipped yer ass a bit harder and longer," he groused, resting his head back on Chris's shoulder with a thump.
Chris sighed, rhythmically caressing Steve's scalp soothingly. "Mmm, maybe later. Especially if I get fucked like that afterward," he added with a yawn, snuggling as best he could against Steve, considering he was still sprawled atop him and lodged deep within him.
"Didn't say I'd fuck ya after, Chrissy," he muttered sleepily.
Chris gave a snort of disgust, his fingers never stopping their motions. "Told you not to call me that."
"Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy," Steve chanted softly, humor rife in his tone. "As long as yer mine, yer Chrissy. Now...shut the fuck up and let me get some sleep, huh?"
"Yours?" he question just under his breath.
"Mmmm, yeah...mine. Ya got a problem with that, Little Man?" Steve asked challengingly.
Chris was silent for a long while, fingers massaging, breathing steady, thoughts racing. "How long are we talking here? A month? A couple weeks?"
Steve gave an exhausted shrug, turning his face into Chris's neck. "I dunno. Till whenever. Now shut the fuck up, will ya?"
"Does this also mean you're mine, Austin, for the duration of this...er...whatever this is?"
"Shit, dontcha ever quit flappin' yer gums?' Steve sighed, then paused, unmoving as he pondered the question. "Do ya want me to be, Chrissy?" he whispered huskily.
Chris inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled, rolling his head so his cheek was pressed against Steve's forehead. "Well, it's only fair, right? If I'm yours..." His voice grew even quieter, becoming faintly uncertain. "Right, Stevie?"
Steve eased himself from Chris and slid off him, turning him so he was spooned snugly in front of him. He gently brushed his hair from his nape and fastened his mouth to the damp curve. He drew hard on the skin, then bit down, making Chris yelp in pain. He finally relented and let go, nuzzling his nose into his hair. "Yeah, sure, Chrissy. I'll be yers. Don't get too cocky about it, though," he warned, not seeing the patented Jericho smirk splitting Chris's face at his words.
"Of course not, Stevie," Chris said carefully, wiggling his ass more comfortably into the cradle of his lover's hips, "Oh, and Steve?"
"Hmph?"
"You're so pretty when you pout."
Steve turned his head and bit the side of Chris's neck again, causing a yelp. "Fuck you, Chrissy," he whispered sweetly before drifting off to sleep, Chris's smug chuckle ringing in his ears.