rivers_bend

Set between tigertrapped's scorching Break and Twist, this is another AU starring Julian and Max. And the very kindly loaned out Luke, whom tigertrapped has allowed me to pinch from her crime novel.

Julian wasn't paying any attention at all to the young man leaning against the wall in a side-street.


Adult rated ~1,200 words.


Max had smiled when he opened the door, a slow twist of his lips that suggested amusement and something he was keeping to himself, but Julian hadn't minded, happy for Max to keep secrets if he was opening his door, inviting Julian in, making him a drink and smiling again when he asked if Julian fancied watching a film. They'd drunk vodka and watched a British offering in which the characters were cutting up bodies over money, Julian hadn't caught why, Max kept tracing his finger through the condensation on his glass and Julian had been paying attention to that more than anything.

Now he was walking home, it was too nice a night to get in a taxi, and he didn’t have to be at work in the morning. He was thinking of Max's eyes in the mirror as he'd fucked Julian while they were waiting for Sands' phone call, thinking of the look on his face as he'd cut Sands' throat; he wasn't paying any attention at all to the young man leaning against the wall in a side-street.

**

Jack had given Luke the E and then fucked off, leaving him buzzing, horny and without enough money to get into a club. Mr Preppie walking towards him, he looked like he might have the cash, or a good time, even if he didn't. There was an alley just around the corner.

'Hey,' Luke said, easing away from the wall and into the path of the blond in jeans and a pressed shirt.

'No thanks,' the blond answered.

Luke had a knife in his pocket, a butterfly he'd practiced with until he could flick it open with a twist of his wrist. 'I don't think you understood my meaning,' he said, watching the guy's eyes go wide as he saw the knife. Scared, and shit, was that horny too?

Luke had moved around so he was edging the other man away from the main road, towards the alley. 'I meant,' he added, touching the knifepoint to the guy's chest, 'why don't you give me your wallet?'

Blue eyes flicked to his face then back to the knife. 'Money's in my left pocket.' His voice still as steady as when he'd said "no thanks," but the fingers brushing his fringe off his face looked nervous.

Two more steps and a gesture with the knife, and Luke had the man backed into the alley. The guy's breathing was shallow and he looked flushed in the light bleeding from the streetlamp. Luke wondered if he'd taken an E as well. Good looking guy, Friday night, it was certainly possible. Playing the knife at the open neck of the guy's shirt, Luke backed him against the wall. Reaching round, he felt in the back pocket of his jeans. Hard arse, nicely shaped. 'Here?' he asked, almost panting, the drug and the tight arse making him hard, 'Or in the front?'

'Front.' Not making a move to get the money out, to hand it to Luke, just watching the knife, hips moving slightly as Luke slid his hand around to the front pocket. That was just too tempting and Luke moved in, licked the guy's lips, went right past his pocket to his cock, which was soft, but not disinterested. Luke pressed in, rubbing, pushing his tongue past those red lips, tasting alcohol and heat.

The guy didn't kiss back, but he didn't fight the tongue fucking into his mouth, just put a hand on Luke's wrist, moved the knife down and away from his collar. Luke let his arm be pushed to the side then he pressed back so that his wrist held the guy's hand against the bricks beside his arse. He tried to protest, but Luke swallowed the sound, tracing the shape of the guy's mouth with his tongue, taking what he wanted. Palming the guy's cock, he ground into his hip, thinking this is much better than a club as the guy went stiff in his hand.

**

Julian looked up when he heard a voice say, 'Hey.' Rent-boy, maybe nineteen, hair razored short over his ears but longer on top, a pale wave pushed back off his forehead. Good looking in a rough sort of way, ripped jeans and a black t-shirt, the sort he might have picked up in a bar a few years ago when he was tired of young lawyers enamoured of their shirts and ties.

'No, thanks,' he said, not interested despite the cant of the guy's hips and his wrists that had the flat hard look of Max's.

Suddenly there was a knife edging him into the side-street, drying his mouth and taking him back to that warehouse, to the look in Max's eyes as he held the blade to Sands' throat. He wanted to laugh, to say "no" or stop backing away from the main road, but he only had eyes for the knife stroking the V where his shirt was unbuttoned in the hope of drawing Max's gaze. It had worked, too; once or twice he'd caught Max's eyes flicking down to the line of his collarbone, though he'd kept his hands to himself, mixing Julian another drink, and then another when he'd finished the second one as quickly as the first. Trouble being, now he was drunk and being mugged at knifepoint, which didn't seem like a terribly good idea.

He had no intention of arguing, let the boy, who seemed wired but not out of control, push him up against a wall, told him where to find his money, but then it was no longer money the kid was after. His hand was hot and knew what it was doing, and Julian had been waiting all night to be kissed. The kid wasn't Max, not by a long shot, but no matter how much logic he applied to the situation - Julian did not want to be snogging a drugged up mugger in an alley while held at knifepoint - his body had other ideas.

He wanted the knife out of the way, wasn't going to fight anything until then, and the boy didn't stop kissing or rubbing to protest, just carried on like this wasn't a mugging but a date. He succeeded in getting the knife hand down at their sides, but then his wrist was pushed back against the bricks, roughness pricking at his skin, the knife making a scraping noise against the wall that set his teeth on edge. 'No,' he tried to say, but his lips just moved against wet heat and he was pushed harder back against the wall. This should feel more dangerous than it does, he thought, giving in to the friction, worried that he was drunker than he should be on four vodkas, wondering that he was getting hard in an alley in a dodgy neighbourhood, wondering what Max would say if he could see Julian now.

'Fuck!' He shoved the mugger off him; letting Max fuck him was one thing, he'd wanted that, but this was just ridiculous.

'Hey,' the kid said, brandishing his blade again, but Julian pushed him harder, tripping him on a bottle, and ran.

He was laughing by the time he got out to the main road again. Not hearing any footsteps behind him, he started walking, heading for home.

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