Static Shock Fan Fiction ❯ My Happy Ending ❯ You Were All The Things I Thought I Knew ( Chapter 15 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Lemon warning!
Non Anime: Static Shock Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.23.2005 | Pages: 6 | Words: 7.5K | Visits: 420 | Status: Completed
Lemon warning!
Non Anime: Static Shock Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.23.2005 | Pages: 6 | Words: 7.5K | Visits: 420 | Status: Completed
Disclaimers Apply Here: Manga-Chick does NOT own any part of Static Shock...no matter what she thinks.
A/N: LEMON!! XD
Shampoo: Er, well---I'm glad you liked it!
Chapter Fifteen:
You Were All The Things I Thought I Knew
Francis left the shop grumbling, feeling wholly irritated and consumed by his mistake. He’d fixed things, but the fact that he’d been forced to miss the date he’d made with Richie was really pulling on him. He was hurrying toward his car when he heard Shiv’s excited voice call him from across the street. He paused, looking over to see the purple haired man hurry over to him, breathing heavily from that activity.
He had to laugh. “You’re so fuckin’ fat, man. Get signed up for a gym, or somethin’...”
“Nah...I’ll...live... SO! What’s the plans for tonight, huh?” Shiv asked, his voice a little too forceful and a little squeaky. But Francis didn’t really pay attention to it. Didn’t really notice how those slanted eyes of his shifted nervously around them, not focusing in on him.
“Well, Rich an’ I were supposed to go out, but I fucked up in the shop–!”
“Let’s go out! Grab a few!”
“...nah, I just want to go home, an’–”
“He went out, too, man!” Shiv exclaimed. “We tried to go over there–oh, by the way, my girl this week’s named Andrea, don’t get it mixed it up with Stacy–me, Dommie, Stacy and I–”
“I thought you were with Andrea...”
“...Huh? OH! Yeah! So, me, Dommie, Stacy–fuck, Andrea and I tried to go over to your house, but he was just leaving, saying he was going to be with Virgil, so–”
Francis tried not to look so annoyed, but it was hard not to do so. He figured that he may as well as let it go, considering that he’d been forced to work later. He then heaved a sigh, shrugging his shoulders. It was hard to get a hold of Richie whenever he was out with Virgil, and he accepted this.
“Fine. Just let me go home an’ change–”
“Got your clothes in the car! Take a shower at our place!” Shiv about shouted, tugging on his arm. “It’s closer to the club, anyway! No point in going all the way across town just to get all clean and fresh...oh, and got your stuff, too. Co-log-nee!”
Francis blinked, studying his friend suspiciously. Shiv shifted nervously under his scrutiny, swallowing hard, tugging at his goatee as he hoped against hope that he was able to keep Francis from heading home before Ivan was done.
Finally, those narrow eyes gave an acknowledging acquiescement, broad shoulders shrugging. “Fine. Seems like you thought of a lotta things, man. How’d you do that?”
Shiv chuckled nervously, wiping extremely sweaty palms over his jeans. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed again. “Just...uh...intuition, I guess. Ivan might meet us later, but he’s out with...erm, his brother, right now.”
“He’s been seein’ Adam a lot, lately,” Francis pointed out with a curious frown.
“Er...yeah...so! Let’s go!”
Francis agreed to follow them back the apartment the trio shared, and Shiv exhaled shakily.
SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.
It was hard maintaining his composure, being sucked into pleasure, losing all sense of respect and determination as he found himself fighting his body’s responses to Ivan’s touch. He couldn’t seem to restrain himself from giving sounds of pleasure, from having his body respond urgently to the slow, deep thrusts Ivan was capable of.
Even as he grit his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose, he concentrated on squeezing that thick, heated length with his ass, fingers curling into the sheets.
He gave a protesting moan as Ivan’s cockhead, without trying, scraped against his insides with a dizzying sense of pleasure that sent heated shivers throughout his entire body. At the deep thrust and penetration, he gave a harsh exhale, bowing his head, trying to keep himself from fully succumbing to the power that threatened to consume him.
“Ah...god...that’s good...give me your cock, Ivan...give it to me...” He was mindless to what he was saying, just needing what was being given to him.
Ivan was gritting his teeth as well, his fingers digging tightly into Richie’s slim hips, his brow sweaty and his neck strained as he fought his own internal battle as well. Everything about the blond was just as good as he’d thought–his sounds, his body, his smells, the sweet way he fought to keep himself from giving in to Ivan’s continuous assault. His vocals were just as delicious, his vocabulary dirty and encouraging, forced out in harsh commands and almost high pitched demands that made Ivan’s stomach quiver. It was heaven to hear it all.
His ass held him tightly, squeezing with determination each time he pulled out, and when he pushed back in, his body would jolt forward and Ivan would feel his insides quivering. Richie’s ass was hot and tight, and he was nearly mindless in that he kept sinking into that inviting depth. He was trying to think about other things, struggling to keep from allowing his feelings to reach Francis, but was continuously distracted by the way Richie moved against him.
“Fuck me Ivan...fuck me hard...fuck me, you fucking bastard...”
He felt the blond suddenly weaken, watched his shoulders drop, and paused in mid-thrust, panting heavily. Watching back muscles tighten, he heard his breathing catch, and watched his back slump. He wiped his own palms on the sheets, suddenly jolted when Richie began moving against him, thighs spreading, his ass slapping impatiently against his front.
“Fucking cum slut,” he hissed, unable to stop him just yet, his cock burning with both heat and pleasure that sent his spine stiffening. “Work it, you cum slut. Get it, bitch. Fucking whore, you fucking slut...”
Ivan could have let it go–could have let him admit defeat and relished him coming. But there was a part of him that didn’t want this to end just yet. He steadied himself and delivered a hard smack of his palm to the already reddened left ass cheek, stopping the blond’s rapid movements with that sharp action. Richie gave a pained protest, Ivan reaching around to once again encircle his fingers around the base of his cock, feeling it twitch as it was denied release. Again, there was another protesting cry, and Ivan had the pleasure of feeling his muscles tremble violently, milking his length with a series of movements that left him groaning.
“Francis has you spoiled,” Ivan managed to eke out, his voice thick with pleasure and concentration. “Fuckin’ brat, learn to appreciate what’s bein’ given to you.”
Both fought to catch their breath, Ivan resting his cheek momentarily against his back as he felt his dick throb angrily within his hand. He shifted, inhaling deeply of his sweat and skin, vaguely realizing that Francis had been right about that perfume that Richie used. He could feel his muscles ripple underneath him, and carefully began to ease his dick out of him, still holding onto his cock determinedly.
With his other hand, he pushed at him, encouraging him onto his back. He wasn’t about to let Richie take any top positions, wanting to be in control and in charge. The blond went without word, shaking hands moving up to move clumps of damp hair from his forehead. Their lips met angrily, each one trying to assert their control, even as Ivan started stroking him. He felt the blond’s lips slack immediately, and he was breathing in the pants of air that escaped hotly from his open mouth. His tongue darted wetly over the corner of his mouth, licked lightly at the bead of sweat that trailed from his temple.
He felt his hands on him, quickly sliding up his ribs, fingers moving over his nipples. At the sharp tweak of fingertips on the dark brown pebbles, Ivan felt his movements falter, and he gave into the sensation that coursed determinedly throughout his body. Richie shifted, to cover one nipple with his mouth, tonguing the hard pebble and biting lightly at the areola.
“Fucking bitch...you fucking bitch...fucking tease,” Ivan whispered harshly, chest arching into that action, unable to stop himself.
His pectorals rippled, and Ivan couldn’t suppress the shudder and grunt of pleasure, shifting to let go of his cock, to cover his balls with one hand, feeling the way they tightened, the blond’s body suddenly stiffening. He quickly stopped the action once more by holding tightly around the base of his cock, Richie giving a loud, angry cry as he pushed hard at his chest.
“Fucking bastard! Stop your fucking teasing!”
Ivan relished the anger, the way Richie breathed harshly against his skin, his entire body shaking hard as he struggled with himself. Ivan bent his head, trying to control his breathing, closing his eyes to try and regain control with himself.
He listened to the sound of their combined breathing, the thunder of his heart and Richie’s. The room was overly stuffy, hot, but it seemed to add to the tension as each struggled to keep themselves from succumbing to the other. Richie seemed to recover faster than he, shifting underneath him to force one leg over his shoulder, the other wrapping tightly around his ribs, his ass searching for Ivan’s cock with impatient actions. Shifting, Ivan released him and supported himself over Richie by leaning both palms onto the bed, meeting that open hole and thrusting in sharply to the hilt. The blond arched underneath him, legs tightening around him, his hands reaching around him to grab onto his ass.
“Ooh, that’s good...I want your cock....ah, fuck me...fuck me...”
Ivan began his slow thrusting once more, easing his big dick in and out of that loosened hole, relishing the tightening action Richie made as he shifted to meet him.
“Oh, God, fuck me...fuck me hard...fuck me, you fucking control freak!”
“Shut up a minute...”
Feeling his heavy breaths against his face, Ivan lowered his head, to suck determinedly at his lips, drawing his tongue out. Their kisses were sloppy and hasty, saliva escaping between their mouths, and he bit on his tongue, the action still making him cry out in pain as he pulled his head back to release the connection.
“Shut up a minute...”
Knowing all his weak spots thanks to Francis, Ivan lowered his head to bite at his collarbone, feeling him jolt violently underneath him. He nipped and licked at the suddenly exposed throat as Richie threw his head back, crying aloud as his hips worked hastily, trying to make the black man go faster.
“Just fuck me! Fuck me!”
Ivan’s response to this was a light slap at his buttocks, fingers shifting from open palm to digging into the hard muscle, aiding his own thrusting.
“You fucking spoiled brat...spoiled sluthole...fucking piece of shit bitch...”
The cries were growing louder, and when Ivan looked up, to determine his progress, he watched tears eke from tightly shut eyelids, and had to grin with satisfaction. Richie’s face, neck and chest was a dark pink, growing violent the more he was denied his release, and Ivan found it pleasurable.
“That’s right...yer gonna cum for me...fucking whore, you’re going to cum for me...”
Recognizing that his own body was growing weak, that he couldn’t hold himself back any further, he gave a low growl and shifted to push his other leg up and over his shoulder.
“Take it, baby, you fucking dirty whore,” he whispered harshly, not even listening to what he was saying. At that effort, he pushed in with a hard thrust, and felt Richie lose all control–he screamed, tendons flexing throughout his body, his fingers curling painfully into Ivan’s buttocks.
Ivan gave a low, exalted shout at his opponent’s defeat, feeling his load shoot forcefully against his body. Pink turned into red and muscles stiffened with painful intensity as Richie strained underneath him, hips cracking against his, spittle flecking past tightened lips.
The tightening of his ass muscles around his cock were Ivan’s own undoing. He had intended to pull out, to shoot over the blond’s body and face, but couldn’t even move to do that. He filled his ass with cum, grunting strongly as his head bowed, fingers digging painfully into the blond’s hips to hold him steady.
Nothing was said as each struggled to regain their breath, as bodies slowly started to relax and coherent thought attempted to return.
As Ivan began to regain sensation back into his body after the orgasm that had racked it painfully, he started to realize how sticky the blankets felt underneath his knees. That the air was thick with the scents of sex, of their sweat and combined body smells. That nearly an hour and a half had passed since he’d pushed Richie onto the bed. He opened his eyes, sweat dripping from his brow and nose, blinking to dispel the haze that made his vision smoky.
Richie moved the same time he did, weakly pulling his legs off his shoulders, pulling back to allow Ivan’s slowly deflating dick to slide out from his ass. Cum, body juices and lube followed his member out, his dick swinging heavily from the short descent, making him groan lightly at the action as Richie rolled onto his side with an exhausted exhale.
Ivan couldn’t even draw up enough energy to crow over his victory. Couldn’t even bother with being disgusted at what had happened. He knew he was exalted in that he’d won this round–but he couldn’t bring himself to display it. Every limb of his was weak, and he knew he himself was going to be sore tomorrow. He could already feel it in his groin, in his hips–he felt as if he’d overworked himself in the gym.
He didn’t think he could even brag about his prowess, somehow feeling that if he did so, it would be quite pointless–the blond, despite his loss, had been a very worthy opponent. He’d very nearly come close to making Ivan lose his mind with his knowledgeable fingers, mouth and body.
He collapsed in a heap behind the blond, unable to stop himself from closing his eyes and allowing everything free. When he realized that he was allowing Francis easy access to his feelings, he quickly shut him out. The thought of Francis having a glance into his exhausted state was enough to get him moving again. He looked over at the violent flush of color that crept down the blond’s pale back–he caught the sight of abused buttocks, remembered how he’d slapped them when Richie had tried to gain control or had been too overeager in his movements.
Without really thinking, his hand was curling over the round smoothness, feeling the immense heat and sweaty moisture there. His fingers probed gently at the widened, loosened hole that leaked fluids, and he felt the muscle quiver with his fingertips’ inquisitive exploration. He heard the blond protest weakly, but no movement was made to stop him.
Ivan knew he had to say something–to relish his win. But as he continued to play with that loosened hole, something came to him; he’d lasted and had cum after his opponent had, but something was wrong. The blond had fought him tooth and nail the entire way. The sex had been excellent. The continued push and pull between both had been exciting and intense, each one trying to get the other to fall to the other’s will.
He pushed his fingers in deep, hearing the messy sound that emitted as he did so. Still, the blond didn’t move, just protested from deep within his throat. Ivan removed his fingers, drawing out his own warm semen and the juices within. He should have been disgusted–but he wiped his fingers clean on the bedsheets and delivered a hard smack against those round cheeks, enjoying the rippling effect the action made. Red skin freckled with more broken capillaries, his hand print showing up moments later.
“Your man’s comin’ home,” Ivan managed to eke out. But that was all he could say as he forced himself to move–his thighs and groin were so worn that the action proved mighty. His knees were shaking as he stood, and he looked down at himself. The stark whiteness of his semen ringed his deflated dick with accusing color, and he forced himself to look away as he walked into the bathroom. He had the shower running cool water, and washed quickly as his thoughts slowly started to return to him.
By the time he was finished, toweling himself off, Richie was gone, and the bed had been stripped. Ivan dressed quickly, still feeling all over shaky and weak as pain started to alert him of the scratches down his back, the bite marks on his neck and chest. He grimaced as he looked down at his fingers, where Richie had sucked on them during one point, drawing each digit into his mouth and sucking strongly on each one–biting the tips after he was done. There were teeth imprints around his middle finger, the skin a bruised red after a particularly hard snap, the nail broken and suddenly painful.
He shook his head, waving away the pain and looking up when Richie walked in, dressed in one of Francis’ shirts. Both of them stared at each other, both of them just as rumpled and ravaged as the other was. Ivan relished the mussed hair, the still reddened skin, the fact that hazel had turned into an intense brown. Richie took in the mussed cornrows, the lazy, bedroom eyes that made his face less harsh, the bite marks on his neck.
Nothing was said, but Ivan’s lips curled into a smirk. Acknowledging his defeat, Richie looked away from him, spying his glasses on the floor. Ivan said nothing as he left the bedroom, the smells of his shower trailing after him.
Closing his eyes, Richie growled low as he made his way into the bathroom to take a shower, to wash off Ivan’s scents and touches.
SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.
Francis came home that night, tired and annoyed. Richie had taken two showers, overly paranoid that Francis would know what had happened while he was away, and his stomach clenched nervously as he watched Francis come into the bedroom. He had to curse Ivan, hating that he’d cum into him–even as he sat still, he could still feel the warm thickness occasionally escaping his still loosened hole.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Francis said, frowning as he looked down at the changed sheets. Richie caught the thick scents of alcohol and cigarette smoke, recognizing that he’d stopped at a bar or someplace similar before coming home. “I fucked up at work and couldn’t leave until I fixed it.”
“I-it’s all right,” Richie said quickly, not wanting to move very much. Ivan’s big dick had left him walking bow-legged and stiffly, and he’d do all he could to avoid walking around. He couldn’t look Francis in the eye. “I’m... I’m kinda sleepy, anyway...”
“I went to the bar with Shiv.”
Richie frowned, glancing at him then. Francis caught the scowl, giving him an annoyed look.
“Nothin’ happened,” he said evenly, giving Richie a stern expression. “I didn’t meet anyone but him and the other guys.”
“Sorry...I guess I shouldn’t be acting like this,” Richie then muttered sullenly, drawing his knees up slightly. He had to wince at the movement, though–his ass felt so painfully sore from the sex and the spanks Ivan had administered throughout the whole thing. “Come to bed?”
“Yeah. Just let me take a shower...you changed the sheets...”
“They felt dirty. We haven’t washed them in a while...kinda nasty when you can feel love juices all dried on them.”
“Ah.” But Francis cast him his own look of accusation and suspicion, gathering clothing from the dresser before heading into the bathroom.
A little guiltily, Richie stared at his feet, and entertained himself by thinking of what had conspired between Ivan and himself just hours before.
Later that night, Shiv cast Ivan a wary expression. “Well?”
Ivan cleared his throat, not about to divulge in detail. He’d told Shiv what he was going to do–he explained what had been going on, and while Shiv didn’t agree to it, he wasn’t going to deny Ivan what he wanted. And Shiv’s loyalty was to him–Francis wasn’t going to find out by him.
“Got what I wanted....” Ivan answered, lost in thought as he made Southern Comfort swirl in a large glass. The pair of them were lounging on the couch at their apartment, sharing a large bottle of the liquor that Shiv had brought home. Dominic was entertaining some chick in his bedroom, and both occasionally commented on what they heard.
“...he put out that easily?” Shiv scratched his ear with some thoughtful reaction. But could only think of how Richie and Ivan avoided each other, snapping at the other like rival dogs when things came down to it. “...I thought you hated each other. How can you have sex with someone, knowing that you hate them?”
“It’s all about control. Power.”
“I...I just don’t get it. I mean, if I hate someone, I don’t want to sleep with them,” Shiv muttered, twirling his beer bottle thoughtfully.
“It’s just about control.”
“Yeah, I got that. Just...how can you get it up like that? Especially over a guy?”
“I don’t think of that bitch as a guy. He isn’t one.”
“Yeah, but...he’s got a dick. Did you play with it?”
“I did what I had to to get control.”
Shiv couldn’t bring himself to thinking in that manner, and shuddered. He played with his beer for a few moments, then finished it off. “I just don’t get it, man. I just don’t get how you can fuck him knowing that you hate him. What if Francis finds out–? Oh, man, he’s going to throw such a fit. He’d fuckin’ kick both of your asses.”
“He won’t find out,” Ivan stated with confidence. “He’s not going to know. It was a one time thing. I had to prove my point.”
“I’ll bet you did,” Shiv muttered, fiddling with his hair. Both of them sat in silence for a few moments before he exhaled heavily. “I’m going to bed, man. But...please don’t ask me to do that again, ‘k? Cuz it felt wrong. I shouldn’t be doin’ that to my buddy, man. Okay?”
Ivan shrugged, accepting that. Shiv left the living room, and Ivan lost himself to his thoughts. His body felt sore and overused, his groin area stiff and strained.
But he had to smirk–he’d won the battle. But had he won the war?
SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.
Frieda shifted uneasily in the chair, adjusted Jean’s head, and promptly burst into tears.
Virgil, who had been bustling in the kitchen to make a small bottle for his brand new daughter, looked at the brunette in confusion.
“My fucking boobs hurt!” she cried, Jean giving an uncomfortable mewl as her face screwed up with an expression similar to Frieda’s.
Virgil just stared stupidly, unsure of what to say or do in this instance, Frieda’s tears running down her chubby cheeks as she adjusted her bra straps. “Er...do you know aspirin? Or how about that Vicodin they prescribed for you?”
“I wish I could just–like–pop them! They’re so full! And it stings, and it makes them hurt! It’s like someone’s biting them from the inside!”
Virgil blinked as Frieda’s pained cries turned louder, Jean finally erupting with her own cries as her mother hugged her tightly. Frieda held out a hand for the bottle, gesturing with her fingers for Virgil to hand it over. Virgil did so, quietly, and watched as she fitted the clear nipple into Jean’s mouth, the baby quieting to gum the nipple before trying to suck on it. Virgil watched, sinking next to them both, watching as Jean grew frustrated in that she couldn’t remember how to work the thing to provide her nourishment.
Both females were crying loudly, with Virgil cringing and looking entirely guilty when Sharon hurried in through the front door, Adam right behind her.
“Oh my god! Virgil! What are you doing?” Sharon shouted, flinging her purse aside and running over to snatch Jean from Frieda’s arms. The brunette shifted to hug her boobs, still crying piteously while Virgil gave Adam a helpless shrug.
Jean caught the nipple and began sucking weakly, sniffling as Sharon crooned to her while pacing.
Frieda finally composed herself, drawing a shaking hand across her nose and eyes. “Sorry. Hormones.”
“You sure got a lot of them,” Virgil commented weakly.
“Shut up and get me one of those Xantax from my purse. I’m losing this weight no matter what I have to do!” she said determinedly.
“How are you adjusting, Frieda?” Sharon asked her, kissing Jean’s forehead. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, mother helps out a lot at home. It sure helps a lot. I never realized that I’d be losing more sleep now than I was pregnant! I’m getting up every fifteen minutes, it feels! And that’s just to check on her. Otherwise, she does pretty well at nights,” Frieda replied cheerfully, as if she just weren’t crying a few moments ago. “She’s such a joy to have, oh my god! I mean, look at her!”
“Just another angel!” Sharon squealed, kissing Jean again.
Virgil looked at Adam again. “Your turn,” he said lowly.
“I’m gettin’ snipped, soon.”
“Oh, no you don’t, you low-down dirty sneak!” Sharon heard the whispered comment, whirling to face him. “You do that, and I will personally correct that ‘snip’ using my hemming set at my daddy’s!”
Adam winced.
Frieda giggled. She looked at Virgil cheerfully. “My diet pill?”
“Oh. Water, too?”
“Yeah! From the big cup!”
Virgil left the couch to follow through, feeling exhausted. While happy and certainly ecstatic that he had both children, in a manner of speaking, he felt certainly exhausted. He had to wonder if it were sympathy fatigue, or something of the sort. Locating Frieda’s purse on the kitchen table, he began rummaging for the bright blue bottle, his eyes straying to the side to catch the newspaper.
There was another animal mauling death, this one another confirmed member of the Playas. Frowning, he paused in the search to read over the article quickly, noting that the police were growing suspicious by the connected deaths of registered gang members.
“The seventh one in three months,” he murmured to himself, lowering the newspaper. He had to reflect sheepishly in that Static hadn’t been out on the streets since Oscar’s arrival. “Well...better get back on it before people get to suspecting things...”
Because Richie didn’t feel like going out, Static was on his own the next night, coasting through the night skies, his mind more on his children than the situation on hand. The summer was turning more chilly as autumn approached, and the air was colder up in this altitude than it was down on the streets. His coat flapping in the wind, Static yawned loudly as he coasted lazily above the buildings, his eyes searching out anything out of the ordinary.
He had nearly completed the north end of the city when shouts from below caught his attention. Swerving quickly, he coasted downwards to see a small group of people racing hastily from a children’s playground. He had to furrow his brow, wondering what they were doing so late at night. Seeing that many of them were wearing dark blue and gray, he rolled his eyes and made his presence known by capturing a few with his static cling.
Everyone shouted in surprise and fear as they found themselves clinging tightly to each other by their clothing, slamming to abrupt stops on the empty parking lot.
Static coasted down to the pavement, giving a low whistle at their expressions of fear and overworked bodies. Many of them were sweaty and panting, as if they had been running hard and furious for the past half hour.
“What’s going on, guys?” he asked casually, walking around them with a considering perusal.
“Man! Let us go! Let us go, it right behind us!” one of them squeaked. All of them, Static realized were no more than twenty.
“What is?” he questioned, glancing back toward the darkness of the park. “The 5-0?”
“Man, you don’t know shit what’s going on out here,” another squeaked, trying to keep his head from his partner’s chest. “Them things be all over the place! Seems like the moment we turn around, there’s another one there!”
Static looked at him curiously, not understanding what was being said. “What is?”
“Let us go! Let us go before it gets us all! Man, it gonna kill us all an’ it’ll be your fucking fault!”
“How can I help you if you ain’t bein’ clear?!” Static exclaimed in frustration, looking at them in turn. “Let me help you. Let me help you! Understand?”
Wild eyes glanced around and at each other, Static watching their silent exchange as he waited impatiently for someone to talk. Finally, one of them swallowed audibly and looked over.
“This–this werewolf thing’s been trackin’ us down, an’ like...fuckin’...eating us,” he explained quietly, with the uncertain expression of a man that felt he wouldn’t be believed.
Static blinked, thinking of Daniel Trujillo. “That thing still out and about...?”
“You know what I’m sayin’?!”
“Man, if you know this thing’s around, why ain’t you doin’ shit?!”
“What the fuck are you doin’, lettin’ this thing run amok, you fuckin’ bastard?”
“What the city payin’ you for if you ain’t doin’ your motherfuckin’ job?!”
Static jumped back, startled at their vehement shouts and anger as they realized that he knew what they were talking about. Holding his hands up with a sheepish expression, he explained, “It’s really not that simple, guys. In case you don’t know, I’ve got a life, too. I was kinda busy. ‘Sides, I don’t consider it a bad thing if it’s cleanin’ up the streets and gettin’ rid of the shoot-outs and the bad activity ya’ll been doin’ for awhile, huh?”
“Man, fuck you. You all just talk an’ no action,” one of them scoffed in an annoyed tone. Most had settled, seeing that the creature wasn’t going to attack with Static being there.
Static sighed, tilting his head as he studied their worn expressions. “Ya’ll look tired. A night in jail should do you all some wonders. How about it, huh?”
“Man, you suck.”
“Go to Hell.”
“Fuckin’ clown.”
Sighing, Static turned away from them, reaching up to activate his earpiece. It would connect him with any nearby police cruiser, and he spoke with an officer on duty. As he waited for the police to arrive, he turned to face the small group that sat before him.
“You guys got any idea why it’s been targeting the lot of you?” he asked curiously. “Why has it been targetin’ the Playas, and no one else?”
“Dunno. We couldn’t’ve pissed it off in any way,” one of them said with a frown. “Don’t remember anybody sayin’ things about this thing.”
“Possibly...could it be...working for a rival gang? Maybe a rival ya’ll ain’t familiar with?”
“The only shit we got goin’ on is with the Thugs and the Pitts, man.”
“Don’t be fuckin’ givin’ shit away, you ass!”
“No, no, let him talk,” Static encouraged, waving the other speaker away. “I need to figure this out. Anything will do. You piss anybody off outside the gang world?”
“Man, we piss anybody off. People just jealous. They just all jealous over us cuz we all successful an’ shit. Cuz we got shit.”
“Yeah, yeah, but–! You do realize that this creature, this werewolf thing, is actually a Metahuman?”
“Thought they all cured that shit?” another member said curiously, frowning.
Static gestured at himself, and all of them looked at him in realization.
“So...this guy, like, is human in all actuality?” one asked in wonder.
“Yeah. My partner already figured out who it was.”
“Then why ain’t you bringin’ him in? Ya’ll just as guilty, then! Ya’ll know who this fucker is, and you all lettin’ it kill us!”
Static felt sheepish at that, but didn’t give away his guilt or attitude. “Look, there are other things around the city we were occupied with. That thing’s just as sneaky as killing off the lot of you, anyway.”
“Man, both of ya’ll are fucked up,” one grumbled angrily. “Fuckin’ lettin’ us get all killed an’ shit...”
“So, narrowing it down, you’ve got things going on with the Thugs and the Pitts, right?”
“Yeah. You gonna talk to them?” the first asked, frowning at them. “Kinda get that thing off us? Cuz it ain’t fair. We arm ourselves just ta protect ourselves, ya know. We don’t even know how it knows us!”
“That’s for me to figure out. Hey, if an apology ain’t gonna work here, I just want to know that I am sorry this is happening,” Static said, apologizing. “But ya’ll gonna understand, Gear an’ I have lives, too. We’re sorta been occupied with that, an’ with other things.”
“Yeah, but people gettin’ murdered all the time ain’t fuckin’ cool, man. Ya’ll just a buncha posers.”
Sighing, Static turned to watch a couple of police cruisers pulling into the parking lot, reds and blues flashing. He spoke with the senior officer, explaining what he’d run into, and was assured that the situation was handled from here.
He lifted off and away, frowning as he made a quick scan through the park to see if Daniel was lingering anywhere. With the information he’d gained from the group, he then tucked what he’d learned away and moved on to see what else needed to be done within Dakota.
SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.
Rudy scratched Danny’s ears, holding his hand flat as he allowed the creature to nibble pieces of chopped meat from his palm. “You almost got ‘em, man. It’s all right if you didn’t. You did the right thing in backin’ off before Static got to ya.”
Eustacio and Gabe shifted uneasily, both of them flicking their eyes upward towards the sky, expecting mentioned superhero to drop in at any moment.
Rudy looked at them both, scowling. “Don’t be fuckin’ pussies, man. He ain’t comin’ back around. You saw him. He’s busy with other things. He can’t catch Danny-boy, here.”
“Yeah, but...that’s fuckin’ Static, man. An’ he gots a partner,” Gabe muttered. “What if they pull the drop on us when we ain’t expecting it?”
“They’re not goin’ to,” Rudy shot back. “They don’t know shit! They can’t catch Danny, here. He’s too fuckin’ fast for them. ‘Sides, if it really mattered, they’d be trying harder. Haven’t been seeing them around lately, anyway...and it looks like Static’s on his own.”
“Yeah, well...still...all paranoid, an’ shit. Once they get on the case, man, they gonna find out what the fuck.”
“They aren’t going to find out ‘what the fuck’ cuz we ain’t giving them any ‘what the fuck’,” Rudy snapped, rolling his eyes and pushing Danny’s head away from him. “You heard what they said. Yeah, we’re suspects, but no one knows that Danny’s workin’ for us. Them Thugs are being suspected, too.”
“But we’re more obvious, man!” Eustacio exclaimed. “We’re the ones with the fuckin’ dogs, man. ‘S why the police keep fuckin’ comin’ around us, all the time! Cuz they know an animal’s taking out these fuckers! All these fuckin’ kids, they think they got somethin’ goin’ on, an’ we’re taking them down! I don’t know, man, maybe we should lay off for awhile. Get him doin’ other things.”
“Like what?” Rudy asked. “He’s gettin’ rid of competition...let’s change the subject. I’ve been talking about, Eu...I’ve been gettin’ word that Ivan an’ his crew were the ones that beat you down. You know Theresa used to run around with that fucker back in the day?”
Eustacio swallowed hard. “No...’sides...like I told you...I don’t know who it was. Man, drop it! It’s all fuckin’ handled! Fuck!”
“I can’t.” Rudy narrowed his eyes at him, pushing Danny’s head away when the creature sniffed his clothing for more treats. “I can’t do that, man. You’re family. I watch out for my family. Anybody that fucks with my family gets treated. Understand?”
“Why you wanna defend that guy?” Gabe then asked his youngest brother in disgust.
“I’m not!”
“He’s covering for his bitch, Gabe,” Rudy muttered in disgust. “That’s what he’s been doin’ all this time. Makin’ sure she don’t get into trouble.”
“You doin’ that, Eustacio? Why you doing that?”
“Man, fuck you! I keep fucking telling you, Rudy, that I don’t know who the fuck it was that jumped me! An’ I don’t care! Karma, man! It was all karma!” Eustacio exclaimed. “Fuck it! I deserved it! I killed our kid, I fuckin’ deserved it!”
“Oh, NOW you convinced that it was your kid!” Rudy looked at him in annoyance, pushing Danny’s head away again. “Man...fine. Fine. I won’t mind that someone fuckin’ kicked your stupid ass for doin’ that shit. But I still mind that Ivan’s buttin’ his head in places where a nigger don’t belong. That still annoys me. So...I’m still bothered by that. But just know that it ain’t about you. Or your bitch.”
“Man–!”
“Danny...Da nny, I need you to do somethin’, k?” Rudy then asked, turning to the large creature. “Find Ivan, all right? You know him?”
“He don’t got anything to go on, man,” Gabe muttered. “We don’t got anything to give him to go on.”
“...Ain’t stopped him, before. Danny, you know who I’m talkin’ about, right? Evans?”
Danny looked down at him in silence, ears flickering up and down with seemingly thoughtful reaction to Rudy’s words. With a small whine, he was down on all fours, butting against the man’s hand. Rudy caught his balance, grabbing handfuls of fur as he steadied himself.
“Find Ivan, all right? Don’t do anything–just know where he’s at so we can talk to him. Is that clear? Is that understood? Let me know, man, that you know what I’m sayin’,” Rudy ordered, shaking him to punctuate his words.
Danny responded with a sharp growl, nipping at his ‘owner’s’ knee in response. He then turned away from them, and bounded off.
Gabe gave his eldest brother an uncertain expression, Eustacio frowning darkly. “How’s he gonna know who Ivan is, anyway? He know him before?”
“I don’t know,” Rudy then laughed. “Just keepin’ him busy so he don’t get all restless. ‘Sides, I wanna talk to the fucker, anyway. Remember that night we were chasing after some of those kids? Heard Stone lives in that area. An’ you know those two are together constantly...fuck. We should have just taken a drive down that way...”
As Rudy trailed off in thought, Eustacio shook his head. “Let it go, man. You’re lettin’ this power get a hold of you...thinkin’ you all invincible an’ shit...”
Rudy gave him a frown, then swatted his shaved head. “Man, shut up. Don’t talk to me that way. Get in the car, bitch. You grounded.”
Eustacio gave him a disgusted look, but went hobbling toward the Tundra nearby. Gabe laughed mockingly.
“Anyway, ‘sides...even if they weren’t the ones that fucked him up, I still wanna check it out. Always hated Evans, always hated Stone. Maybe we can get about to settling some things, eh?”
“I thought we agreed that Ivan was the one behind Eustacio’s beating, man?”
“...Yeah...I’m thinking he is? But I’m just saying, if it’s a possibility that he didn’t, let’s just start some shit, anyway.”
“...Ah. Okay! Sounds cool, man. ‘Sides, with Danny on our backs, we should get it easily, eh?”
“Yeah...s’what I’m sayin’.”
A/N: LEMON!! XD
Shampoo: Er, well---I'm glad you liked it!
Chapter Fifteen:
You Were All The Things I Thought I Knew
Francis left the shop grumbling, feeling wholly irritated and consumed by his mistake. He’d fixed things, but the fact that he’d been forced to miss the date he’d made with Richie was really pulling on him. He was hurrying toward his car when he heard Shiv’s excited voice call him from across the street. He paused, looking over to see the purple haired man hurry over to him, breathing heavily from that activity.
He had to laugh. “You’re so fuckin’ fat, man. Get signed up for a gym, or somethin’...”
“Nah...I’ll...live... SO! What’s the plans for tonight, huh?” Shiv asked, his voice a little too forceful and a little squeaky. But Francis didn’t really pay attention to it. Didn’t really notice how those slanted eyes of his shifted nervously around them, not focusing in on him.
“Well, Rich an’ I were supposed to go out, but I fucked up in the shop–!”
“Let’s go out! Grab a few!”
“...nah, I just want to go home, an’–”
“He went out, too, man!” Shiv exclaimed. “We tried to go over there–oh, by the way, my girl this week’s named Andrea, don’t get it mixed it up with Stacy–me, Dommie, Stacy and I–”
“I thought you were with Andrea...”
“...Huh? OH! Yeah! So, me, Dommie, Stacy–fuck, Andrea and I tried to go over to your house, but he was just leaving, saying he was going to be with Virgil, so–”
Francis tried not to look so annoyed, but it was hard not to do so. He figured that he may as well as let it go, considering that he’d been forced to work later. He then heaved a sigh, shrugging his shoulders. It was hard to get a hold of Richie whenever he was out with Virgil, and he accepted this.
“Fine. Just let me go home an’ change–”
“Got your clothes in the car! Take a shower at our place!” Shiv about shouted, tugging on his arm. “It’s closer to the club, anyway! No point in going all the way across town just to get all clean and fresh...oh, and got your stuff, too. Co-log-nee!”
Francis blinked, studying his friend suspiciously. Shiv shifted nervously under his scrutiny, swallowing hard, tugging at his goatee as he hoped against hope that he was able to keep Francis from heading home before Ivan was done.
Finally, those narrow eyes gave an acknowledging acquiescement, broad shoulders shrugging. “Fine. Seems like you thought of a lotta things, man. How’d you do that?”
Shiv chuckled nervously, wiping extremely sweaty palms over his jeans. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed again. “Just...uh...intuition, I guess. Ivan might meet us later, but he’s out with...erm, his brother, right now.”
“He’s been seein’ Adam a lot, lately,” Francis pointed out with a curious frown.
“Er...yeah...so! Let’s go!”
Francis agreed to follow them back the apartment the trio shared, and Shiv exhaled shakily.
SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.
It was hard maintaining his composure, being sucked into pleasure, losing all sense of respect and determination as he found himself fighting his body’s responses to Ivan’s touch. He couldn’t seem to restrain himself from giving sounds of pleasure, from having his body respond urgently to the slow, deep thrusts Ivan was capable of.
Even as he grit his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose, he concentrated on squeezing that thick, heated length with his ass, fingers curling into the sheets.
He gave a protesting moan as Ivan’s cockhead, without trying, scraped against his insides with a dizzying sense of pleasure that sent heated shivers throughout his entire body. At the deep thrust and penetration, he gave a harsh exhale, bowing his head, trying to keep himself from fully succumbing to the power that threatened to consume him.
“Ah...god...that’s good...give me your cock, Ivan...give it to me...” He was mindless to what he was saying, just needing what was being given to him.
Ivan was gritting his teeth as well, his fingers digging tightly into Richie’s slim hips, his brow sweaty and his neck strained as he fought his own internal battle as well. Everything about the blond was just as good as he’d thought–his sounds, his body, his smells, the sweet way he fought to keep himself from giving in to Ivan’s continuous assault. His vocals were just as delicious, his vocabulary dirty and encouraging, forced out in harsh commands and almost high pitched demands that made Ivan’s stomach quiver. It was heaven to hear it all.
His ass held him tightly, squeezing with determination each time he pulled out, and when he pushed back in, his body would jolt forward and Ivan would feel his insides quivering. Richie’s ass was hot and tight, and he was nearly mindless in that he kept sinking into that inviting depth. He was trying to think about other things, struggling to keep from allowing his feelings to reach Francis, but was continuously distracted by the way Richie moved against him.
“Fuck me Ivan...fuck me hard...fuck me, you fucking bastard...”
He felt the blond suddenly weaken, watched his shoulders drop, and paused in mid-thrust, panting heavily. Watching back muscles tighten, he heard his breathing catch, and watched his back slump. He wiped his own palms on the sheets, suddenly jolted when Richie began moving against him, thighs spreading, his ass slapping impatiently against his front.
“Fucking cum slut,” he hissed, unable to stop him just yet, his cock burning with both heat and pleasure that sent his spine stiffening. “Work it, you cum slut. Get it, bitch. Fucking whore, you fucking slut...”
Ivan could have let it go–could have let him admit defeat and relished him coming. But there was a part of him that didn’t want this to end just yet. He steadied himself and delivered a hard smack of his palm to the already reddened left ass cheek, stopping the blond’s rapid movements with that sharp action. Richie gave a pained protest, Ivan reaching around to once again encircle his fingers around the base of his cock, feeling it twitch as it was denied release. Again, there was another protesting cry, and Ivan had the pleasure of feeling his muscles tremble violently, milking his length with a series of movements that left him groaning.
“Francis has you spoiled,” Ivan managed to eke out, his voice thick with pleasure and concentration. “Fuckin’ brat, learn to appreciate what’s bein’ given to you.”
Both fought to catch their breath, Ivan resting his cheek momentarily against his back as he felt his dick throb angrily within his hand. He shifted, inhaling deeply of his sweat and skin, vaguely realizing that Francis had been right about that perfume that Richie used. He could feel his muscles ripple underneath him, and carefully began to ease his dick out of him, still holding onto his cock determinedly.
With his other hand, he pushed at him, encouraging him onto his back. He wasn’t about to let Richie take any top positions, wanting to be in control and in charge. The blond went without word, shaking hands moving up to move clumps of damp hair from his forehead. Their lips met angrily, each one trying to assert their control, even as Ivan started stroking him. He felt the blond’s lips slack immediately, and he was breathing in the pants of air that escaped hotly from his open mouth. His tongue darted wetly over the corner of his mouth, licked lightly at the bead of sweat that trailed from his temple.
He felt his hands on him, quickly sliding up his ribs, fingers moving over his nipples. At the sharp tweak of fingertips on the dark brown pebbles, Ivan felt his movements falter, and he gave into the sensation that coursed determinedly throughout his body. Richie shifted, to cover one nipple with his mouth, tonguing the hard pebble and biting lightly at the areola.
“Fucking bitch...you fucking bitch...fucking tease,” Ivan whispered harshly, chest arching into that action, unable to stop himself.
His pectorals rippled, and Ivan couldn’t suppress the shudder and grunt of pleasure, shifting to let go of his cock, to cover his balls with one hand, feeling the way they tightened, the blond’s body suddenly stiffening. He quickly stopped the action once more by holding tightly around the base of his cock, Richie giving a loud, angry cry as he pushed hard at his chest.
“Fucking bastard! Stop your fucking teasing!”
Ivan relished the anger, the way Richie breathed harshly against his skin, his entire body shaking hard as he struggled with himself. Ivan bent his head, trying to control his breathing, closing his eyes to try and regain control with himself.
He listened to the sound of their combined breathing, the thunder of his heart and Richie’s. The room was overly stuffy, hot, but it seemed to add to the tension as each struggled to keep themselves from succumbing to the other. Richie seemed to recover faster than he, shifting underneath him to force one leg over his shoulder, the other wrapping tightly around his ribs, his ass searching for Ivan’s cock with impatient actions. Shifting, Ivan released him and supported himself over Richie by leaning both palms onto the bed, meeting that open hole and thrusting in sharply to the hilt. The blond arched underneath him, legs tightening around him, his hands reaching around him to grab onto his ass.
“Ooh, that’s good...I want your cock....ah, fuck me...fuck me...”
Ivan began his slow thrusting once more, easing his big dick in and out of that loosened hole, relishing the tightening action Richie made as he shifted to meet him.
“Oh, God, fuck me...fuck me hard...fuck me, you fucking control freak!”
“Shut up a minute...”
Feeling his heavy breaths against his face, Ivan lowered his head, to suck determinedly at his lips, drawing his tongue out. Their kisses were sloppy and hasty, saliva escaping between their mouths, and he bit on his tongue, the action still making him cry out in pain as he pulled his head back to release the connection.
“Shut up a minute...”
Knowing all his weak spots thanks to Francis, Ivan lowered his head to bite at his collarbone, feeling him jolt violently underneath him. He nipped and licked at the suddenly exposed throat as Richie threw his head back, crying aloud as his hips worked hastily, trying to make the black man go faster.
“Just fuck me! Fuck me!”
Ivan’s response to this was a light slap at his buttocks, fingers shifting from open palm to digging into the hard muscle, aiding his own thrusting.
“You fucking spoiled brat...spoiled sluthole...fucking piece of shit bitch...”
The cries were growing louder, and when Ivan looked up, to determine his progress, he watched tears eke from tightly shut eyelids, and had to grin with satisfaction. Richie’s face, neck and chest was a dark pink, growing violent the more he was denied his release, and Ivan found it pleasurable.
“That’s right...yer gonna cum for me...fucking whore, you’re going to cum for me...”
Recognizing that his own body was growing weak, that he couldn’t hold himself back any further, he gave a low growl and shifted to push his other leg up and over his shoulder.
“Take it, baby, you fucking dirty whore,” he whispered harshly, not even listening to what he was saying. At that effort, he pushed in with a hard thrust, and felt Richie lose all control–he screamed, tendons flexing throughout his body, his fingers curling painfully into Ivan’s buttocks.
Ivan gave a low, exalted shout at his opponent’s defeat, feeling his load shoot forcefully against his body. Pink turned into red and muscles stiffened with painful intensity as Richie strained underneath him, hips cracking against his, spittle flecking past tightened lips.
The tightening of his ass muscles around his cock were Ivan’s own undoing. He had intended to pull out, to shoot over the blond’s body and face, but couldn’t even move to do that. He filled his ass with cum, grunting strongly as his head bowed, fingers digging painfully into the blond’s hips to hold him steady.
Nothing was said as each struggled to regain their breath, as bodies slowly started to relax and coherent thought attempted to return.
As Ivan began to regain sensation back into his body after the orgasm that had racked it painfully, he started to realize how sticky the blankets felt underneath his knees. That the air was thick with the scents of sex, of their sweat and combined body smells. That nearly an hour and a half had passed since he’d pushed Richie onto the bed. He opened his eyes, sweat dripping from his brow and nose, blinking to dispel the haze that made his vision smoky.
Richie moved the same time he did, weakly pulling his legs off his shoulders, pulling back to allow Ivan’s slowly deflating dick to slide out from his ass. Cum, body juices and lube followed his member out, his dick swinging heavily from the short descent, making him groan lightly at the action as Richie rolled onto his side with an exhausted exhale.
Ivan couldn’t even draw up enough energy to crow over his victory. Couldn’t even bother with being disgusted at what had happened. He knew he was exalted in that he’d won this round–but he couldn’t bring himself to display it. Every limb of his was weak, and he knew he himself was going to be sore tomorrow. He could already feel it in his groin, in his hips–he felt as if he’d overworked himself in the gym.
He didn’t think he could even brag about his prowess, somehow feeling that if he did so, it would be quite pointless–the blond, despite his loss, had been a very worthy opponent. He’d very nearly come close to making Ivan lose his mind with his knowledgeable fingers, mouth and body.
He collapsed in a heap behind the blond, unable to stop himself from closing his eyes and allowing everything free. When he realized that he was allowing Francis easy access to his feelings, he quickly shut him out. The thought of Francis having a glance into his exhausted state was enough to get him moving again. He looked over at the violent flush of color that crept down the blond’s pale back–he caught the sight of abused buttocks, remembered how he’d slapped them when Richie had tried to gain control or had been too overeager in his movements.
Without really thinking, his hand was curling over the round smoothness, feeling the immense heat and sweaty moisture there. His fingers probed gently at the widened, loosened hole that leaked fluids, and he felt the muscle quiver with his fingertips’ inquisitive exploration. He heard the blond protest weakly, but no movement was made to stop him.
Ivan knew he had to say something–to relish his win. But as he continued to play with that loosened hole, something came to him; he’d lasted and had cum after his opponent had, but something was wrong. The blond had fought him tooth and nail the entire way. The sex had been excellent. The continued push and pull between both had been exciting and intense, each one trying to get the other to fall to the other’s will.
He pushed his fingers in deep, hearing the messy sound that emitted as he did so. Still, the blond didn’t move, just protested from deep within his throat. Ivan removed his fingers, drawing out his own warm semen and the juices within. He should have been disgusted–but he wiped his fingers clean on the bedsheets and delivered a hard smack against those round cheeks, enjoying the rippling effect the action made. Red skin freckled with more broken capillaries, his hand print showing up moments later.
“Your man’s comin’ home,” Ivan managed to eke out. But that was all he could say as he forced himself to move–his thighs and groin were so worn that the action proved mighty. His knees were shaking as he stood, and he looked down at himself. The stark whiteness of his semen ringed his deflated dick with accusing color, and he forced himself to look away as he walked into the bathroom. He had the shower running cool water, and washed quickly as his thoughts slowly started to return to him.
By the time he was finished, toweling himself off, Richie was gone, and the bed had been stripped. Ivan dressed quickly, still feeling all over shaky and weak as pain started to alert him of the scratches down his back, the bite marks on his neck and chest. He grimaced as he looked down at his fingers, where Richie had sucked on them during one point, drawing each digit into his mouth and sucking strongly on each one–biting the tips after he was done. There were teeth imprints around his middle finger, the skin a bruised red after a particularly hard snap, the nail broken and suddenly painful.
He shook his head, waving away the pain and looking up when Richie walked in, dressed in one of Francis’ shirts. Both of them stared at each other, both of them just as rumpled and ravaged as the other was. Ivan relished the mussed hair, the still reddened skin, the fact that hazel had turned into an intense brown. Richie took in the mussed cornrows, the lazy, bedroom eyes that made his face less harsh, the bite marks on his neck.
Nothing was said, but Ivan’s lips curled into a smirk. Acknowledging his defeat, Richie looked away from him, spying his glasses on the floor. Ivan said nothing as he left the bedroom, the smells of his shower trailing after him.
Closing his eyes, Richie growled low as he made his way into the bathroom to take a shower, to wash off Ivan’s scents and touches.
SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.
Francis came home that night, tired and annoyed. Richie had taken two showers, overly paranoid that Francis would know what had happened while he was away, and his stomach clenched nervously as he watched Francis come into the bedroom. He had to curse Ivan, hating that he’d cum into him–even as he sat still, he could still feel the warm thickness occasionally escaping his still loosened hole.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Francis said, frowning as he looked down at the changed sheets. Richie caught the thick scents of alcohol and cigarette smoke, recognizing that he’d stopped at a bar or someplace similar before coming home. “I fucked up at work and couldn’t leave until I fixed it.”
“I-it’s all right,” Richie said quickly, not wanting to move very much. Ivan’s big dick had left him walking bow-legged and stiffly, and he’d do all he could to avoid walking around. He couldn’t look Francis in the eye. “I’m... I’m kinda sleepy, anyway...”
“I went to the bar with Shiv.”
Richie frowned, glancing at him then. Francis caught the scowl, giving him an annoyed look.
“Nothin’ happened,” he said evenly, giving Richie a stern expression. “I didn’t meet anyone but him and the other guys.”
“Sorry...I guess I shouldn’t be acting like this,” Richie then muttered sullenly, drawing his knees up slightly. He had to wince at the movement, though–his ass felt so painfully sore from the sex and the spanks Ivan had administered throughout the whole thing. “Come to bed?”
“Yeah. Just let me take a shower...you changed the sheets...”
“They felt dirty. We haven’t washed them in a while...kinda nasty when you can feel love juices all dried on them.”
“Ah.” But Francis cast him his own look of accusation and suspicion, gathering clothing from the dresser before heading into the bathroom.
A little guiltily, Richie stared at his feet, and entertained himself by thinking of what had conspired between Ivan and himself just hours before.
Later that night, Shiv cast Ivan a wary expression. “Well?”
Ivan cleared his throat, not about to divulge in detail. He’d told Shiv what he was going to do–he explained what had been going on, and while Shiv didn’t agree to it, he wasn’t going to deny Ivan what he wanted. And Shiv’s loyalty was to him–Francis wasn’t going to find out by him.
“Got what I wanted....” Ivan answered, lost in thought as he made Southern Comfort swirl in a large glass. The pair of them were lounging on the couch at their apartment, sharing a large bottle of the liquor that Shiv had brought home. Dominic was entertaining some chick in his bedroom, and both occasionally commented on what they heard.
“...he put out that easily?” Shiv scratched his ear with some thoughtful reaction. But could only think of how Richie and Ivan avoided each other, snapping at the other like rival dogs when things came down to it. “...I thought you hated each other. How can you have sex with someone, knowing that you hate them?”
“It’s all about control. Power.”
“I...I just don’t get it. I mean, if I hate someone, I don’t want to sleep with them,” Shiv muttered, twirling his beer bottle thoughtfully.
“It’s just about control.”
“Yeah, I got that. Just...how can you get it up like that? Especially over a guy?”
“I don’t think of that bitch as a guy. He isn’t one.”
“Yeah, but...he’s got a dick. Did you play with it?”
“I did what I had to to get control.”
Shiv couldn’t bring himself to thinking in that manner, and shuddered. He played with his beer for a few moments, then finished it off. “I just don’t get it, man. I just don’t get how you can fuck him knowing that you hate him. What if Francis finds out–? Oh, man, he’s going to throw such a fit. He’d fuckin’ kick both of your asses.”
“He won’t find out,” Ivan stated with confidence. “He’s not going to know. It was a one time thing. I had to prove my point.”
“I’ll bet you did,” Shiv muttered, fiddling with his hair. Both of them sat in silence for a few moments before he exhaled heavily. “I’m going to bed, man. But...please don’t ask me to do that again, ‘k? Cuz it felt wrong. I shouldn’t be doin’ that to my buddy, man. Okay?”
Ivan shrugged, accepting that. Shiv left the living room, and Ivan lost himself to his thoughts. His body felt sore and overused, his groin area stiff and strained.
But he had to smirk–he’d won the battle. But had he won the war?
SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.
Frieda shifted uneasily in the chair, adjusted Jean’s head, and promptly burst into tears.
Virgil, who had been bustling in the kitchen to make a small bottle for his brand new daughter, looked at the brunette in confusion.
“My fucking boobs hurt!” she cried, Jean giving an uncomfortable mewl as her face screwed up with an expression similar to Frieda’s.
Virgil just stared stupidly, unsure of what to say or do in this instance, Frieda’s tears running down her chubby cheeks as she adjusted her bra straps. “Er...do you know aspirin? Or how about that Vicodin they prescribed for you?”
“I wish I could just–like–pop them! They’re so full! And it stings, and it makes them hurt! It’s like someone’s biting them from the inside!”
Virgil blinked as Frieda’s pained cries turned louder, Jean finally erupting with her own cries as her mother hugged her tightly. Frieda held out a hand for the bottle, gesturing with her fingers for Virgil to hand it over. Virgil did so, quietly, and watched as she fitted the clear nipple into Jean’s mouth, the baby quieting to gum the nipple before trying to suck on it. Virgil watched, sinking next to them both, watching as Jean grew frustrated in that she couldn’t remember how to work the thing to provide her nourishment.
Both females were crying loudly, with Virgil cringing and looking entirely guilty when Sharon hurried in through the front door, Adam right behind her.
“Oh my god! Virgil! What are you doing?” Sharon shouted, flinging her purse aside and running over to snatch Jean from Frieda’s arms. The brunette shifted to hug her boobs, still crying piteously while Virgil gave Adam a helpless shrug.
Jean caught the nipple and began sucking weakly, sniffling as Sharon crooned to her while pacing.
Frieda finally composed herself, drawing a shaking hand across her nose and eyes. “Sorry. Hormones.”
“You sure got a lot of them,” Virgil commented weakly.
“Shut up and get me one of those Xantax from my purse. I’m losing this weight no matter what I have to do!” she said determinedly.
“How are you adjusting, Frieda?” Sharon asked her, kissing Jean’s forehead. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, mother helps out a lot at home. It sure helps a lot. I never realized that I’d be losing more sleep now than I was pregnant! I’m getting up every fifteen minutes, it feels! And that’s just to check on her. Otherwise, she does pretty well at nights,” Frieda replied cheerfully, as if she just weren’t crying a few moments ago. “She’s such a joy to have, oh my god! I mean, look at her!”
“Just another angel!” Sharon squealed, kissing Jean again.
Virgil looked at Adam again. “Your turn,” he said lowly.
“I’m gettin’ snipped, soon.”
“Oh, no you don’t, you low-down dirty sneak!” Sharon heard the whispered comment, whirling to face him. “You do that, and I will personally correct that ‘snip’ using my hemming set at my daddy’s!”
Adam winced.
Frieda giggled. She looked at Virgil cheerfully. “My diet pill?”
“Oh. Water, too?”
“Yeah! From the big cup!”
Virgil left the couch to follow through, feeling exhausted. While happy and certainly ecstatic that he had both children, in a manner of speaking, he felt certainly exhausted. He had to wonder if it were sympathy fatigue, or something of the sort. Locating Frieda’s purse on the kitchen table, he began rummaging for the bright blue bottle, his eyes straying to the side to catch the newspaper.
There was another animal mauling death, this one another confirmed member of the Playas. Frowning, he paused in the search to read over the article quickly, noting that the police were growing suspicious by the connected deaths of registered gang members.
“The seventh one in three months,” he murmured to himself, lowering the newspaper. He had to reflect sheepishly in that Static hadn’t been out on the streets since Oscar’s arrival. “Well...better get back on it before people get to suspecting things...”
Because Richie didn’t feel like going out, Static was on his own the next night, coasting through the night skies, his mind more on his children than the situation on hand. The summer was turning more chilly as autumn approached, and the air was colder up in this altitude than it was down on the streets. His coat flapping in the wind, Static yawned loudly as he coasted lazily above the buildings, his eyes searching out anything out of the ordinary.
He had nearly completed the north end of the city when shouts from below caught his attention. Swerving quickly, he coasted downwards to see a small group of people racing hastily from a children’s playground. He had to furrow his brow, wondering what they were doing so late at night. Seeing that many of them were wearing dark blue and gray, he rolled his eyes and made his presence known by capturing a few with his static cling.
Everyone shouted in surprise and fear as they found themselves clinging tightly to each other by their clothing, slamming to abrupt stops on the empty parking lot.
Static coasted down to the pavement, giving a low whistle at their expressions of fear and overworked bodies. Many of them were sweaty and panting, as if they had been running hard and furious for the past half hour.
“What’s going on, guys?” he asked casually, walking around them with a considering perusal.
“Man! Let us go! Let us go, it right behind us!” one of them squeaked. All of them, Static realized were no more than twenty.
“What is?” he questioned, glancing back toward the darkness of the park. “The 5-0?”
“Man, you don’t know shit what’s going on out here,” another squeaked, trying to keep his head from his partner’s chest. “Them things be all over the place! Seems like the moment we turn around, there’s another one there!”
Static looked at him curiously, not understanding what was being said. “What is?”
“Let us go! Let us go before it gets us all! Man, it gonna kill us all an’ it’ll be your fucking fault!”
“How can I help you if you ain’t bein’ clear?!” Static exclaimed in frustration, looking at them in turn. “Let me help you. Let me help you! Understand?”
Wild eyes glanced around and at each other, Static watching their silent exchange as he waited impatiently for someone to talk. Finally, one of them swallowed audibly and looked over.
“This–this werewolf thing’s been trackin’ us down, an’ like...fuckin’...eating us,” he explained quietly, with the uncertain expression of a man that felt he wouldn’t be believed.
Static blinked, thinking of Daniel Trujillo. “That thing still out and about...?”
“You know what I’m sayin’?!”
“Man, if you know this thing’s around, why ain’t you doin’ shit?!”
“What the fuck are you doin’, lettin’ this thing run amok, you fuckin’ bastard?”
“What the city payin’ you for if you ain’t doin’ your motherfuckin’ job?!”
Static jumped back, startled at their vehement shouts and anger as they realized that he knew what they were talking about. Holding his hands up with a sheepish expression, he explained, “It’s really not that simple, guys. In case you don’t know, I’ve got a life, too. I was kinda busy. ‘Sides, I don’t consider it a bad thing if it’s cleanin’ up the streets and gettin’ rid of the shoot-outs and the bad activity ya’ll been doin’ for awhile, huh?”
“Man, fuck you. You all just talk an’ no action,” one of them scoffed in an annoyed tone. Most had settled, seeing that the creature wasn’t going to attack with Static being there.
Static sighed, tilting his head as he studied their worn expressions. “Ya’ll look tired. A night in jail should do you all some wonders. How about it, huh?”
“Man, you suck.”
“Go to Hell.”
“Fuckin’ clown.”
Sighing, Static turned away from them, reaching up to activate his earpiece. It would connect him with any nearby police cruiser, and he spoke with an officer on duty. As he waited for the police to arrive, he turned to face the small group that sat before him.
“You guys got any idea why it’s been targeting the lot of you?” he asked curiously. “Why has it been targetin’ the Playas, and no one else?”
“Dunno. We couldn’t’ve pissed it off in any way,” one of them said with a frown. “Don’t remember anybody sayin’ things about this thing.”
“Possibly...could it be...working for a rival gang? Maybe a rival ya’ll ain’t familiar with?”
“The only shit we got goin’ on is with the Thugs and the Pitts, man.”
“Don’t be fuckin’ givin’ shit away, you ass!”
“No, no, let him talk,” Static encouraged, waving the other speaker away. “I need to figure this out. Anything will do. You piss anybody off outside the gang world?”
“Man, we piss anybody off. People just jealous. They just all jealous over us cuz we all successful an’ shit. Cuz we got shit.”
“Yeah, yeah, but–! You do realize that this creature, this werewolf thing, is actually a Metahuman?”
“Thought they all cured that shit?” another member said curiously, frowning.
Static gestured at himself, and all of them looked at him in realization.
“So...this guy, like, is human in all actuality?” one asked in wonder.
“Yeah. My partner already figured out who it was.”
“Then why ain’t you bringin’ him in? Ya’ll just as guilty, then! Ya’ll know who this fucker is, and you all lettin’ it kill us!”
Static felt sheepish at that, but didn’t give away his guilt or attitude. “Look, there are other things around the city we were occupied with. That thing’s just as sneaky as killing off the lot of you, anyway.”
“Man, both of ya’ll are fucked up,” one grumbled angrily. “Fuckin’ lettin’ us get all killed an’ shit...”
“So, narrowing it down, you’ve got things going on with the Thugs and the Pitts, right?”
“Yeah. You gonna talk to them?” the first asked, frowning at them. “Kinda get that thing off us? Cuz it ain’t fair. We arm ourselves just ta protect ourselves, ya know. We don’t even know how it knows us!”
“That’s for me to figure out. Hey, if an apology ain’t gonna work here, I just want to know that I am sorry this is happening,” Static said, apologizing. “But ya’ll gonna understand, Gear an’ I have lives, too. We’re sorta been occupied with that, an’ with other things.”
“Yeah, but people gettin’ murdered all the time ain’t fuckin’ cool, man. Ya’ll just a buncha posers.”
Sighing, Static turned to watch a couple of police cruisers pulling into the parking lot, reds and blues flashing. He spoke with the senior officer, explaining what he’d run into, and was assured that the situation was handled from here.
He lifted off and away, frowning as he made a quick scan through the park to see if Daniel was lingering anywhere. With the information he’d gained from the group, he then tucked what he’d learned away and moved on to see what else needed to be done within Dakota.
SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.SS.
Rudy scratched Danny’s ears, holding his hand flat as he allowed the creature to nibble pieces of chopped meat from his palm. “You almost got ‘em, man. It’s all right if you didn’t. You did the right thing in backin’ off before Static got to ya.”
Eustacio and Gabe shifted uneasily, both of them flicking their eyes upward towards the sky, expecting mentioned superhero to drop in at any moment.
Rudy looked at them both, scowling. “Don’t be fuckin’ pussies, man. He ain’t comin’ back around. You saw him. He’s busy with other things. He can’t catch Danny-boy, here.”
“Yeah, but...that’s fuckin’ Static, man. An’ he gots a partner,” Gabe muttered. “What if they pull the drop on us when we ain’t expecting it?”
“They’re not goin’ to,” Rudy shot back. “They don’t know shit! They can’t catch Danny, here. He’s too fuckin’ fast for them. ‘Sides, if it really mattered, they’d be trying harder. Haven’t been seeing them around lately, anyway...and it looks like Static’s on his own.”
“Yeah, well...still...all paranoid, an’ shit. Once they get on the case, man, they gonna find out what the fuck.”
“They aren’t going to find out ‘what the fuck’ cuz we ain’t giving them any ‘what the fuck’,” Rudy snapped, rolling his eyes and pushing Danny’s head away from him. “You heard what they said. Yeah, we’re suspects, but no one knows that Danny’s workin’ for us. Them Thugs are being suspected, too.”
“But we’re more obvious, man!” Eustacio exclaimed. “We’re the ones with the fuckin’ dogs, man. ‘S why the police keep fuckin’ comin’ around us, all the time! Cuz they know an animal’s taking out these fuckers! All these fuckin’ kids, they think they got somethin’ goin’ on, an’ we’re taking them down! I don’t know, man, maybe we should lay off for awhile. Get him doin’ other things.”
“Like what?” Rudy asked. “He’s gettin’ rid of competition...let’s change the subject. I’ve been talking about, Eu...I’ve been gettin’ word that Ivan an’ his crew were the ones that beat you down. You know Theresa used to run around with that fucker back in the day?”
Eustacio swallowed hard. “No...’sides...like I told you...I don’t know who it was. Man, drop it! It’s all fuckin’ handled! Fuck!”
“I can’t.” Rudy narrowed his eyes at him, pushing Danny’s head away when the creature sniffed his clothing for more treats. “I can’t do that, man. You’re family. I watch out for my family. Anybody that fucks with my family gets treated. Understand?”
“Why you wanna defend that guy?” Gabe then asked his youngest brother in disgust.
“I’m not!”
“He’s covering for his bitch, Gabe,” Rudy muttered in disgust. “That’s what he’s been doin’ all this time. Makin’ sure she don’t get into trouble.”
“You doin’ that, Eustacio? Why you doing that?”
“Man, fuck you! I keep fucking telling you, Rudy, that I don’t know who the fuck it was that jumped me! An’ I don’t care! Karma, man! It was all karma!” Eustacio exclaimed. “Fuck it! I deserved it! I killed our kid, I fuckin’ deserved it!”
“Oh, NOW you convinced that it was your kid!” Rudy looked at him in annoyance, pushing Danny’s head away again. “Man...fine. Fine. I won’t mind that someone fuckin’ kicked your stupid ass for doin’ that shit. But I still mind that Ivan’s buttin’ his head in places where a nigger don’t belong. That still annoys me. So...I’m still bothered by that. But just know that it ain’t about you. Or your bitch.”
“Man–!”
“Danny...Da nny, I need you to do somethin’, k?” Rudy then asked, turning to the large creature. “Find Ivan, all right? You know him?”
“He don’t got anything to go on, man,” Gabe muttered. “We don’t got anything to give him to go on.”
“...Ain’t stopped him, before. Danny, you know who I’m talkin’ about, right? Evans?”
Danny looked down at him in silence, ears flickering up and down with seemingly thoughtful reaction to Rudy’s words. With a small whine, he was down on all fours, butting against the man’s hand. Rudy caught his balance, grabbing handfuls of fur as he steadied himself.
“Find Ivan, all right? Don’t do anything–just know where he’s at so we can talk to him. Is that clear? Is that understood? Let me know, man, that you know what I’m sayin’,” Rudy ordered, shaking him to punctuate his words.
Danny responded with a sharp growl, nipping at his ‘owner’s’ knee in response. He then turned away from them, and bounded off.
Gabe gave his eldest brother an uncertain expression, Eustacio frowning darkly. “How’s he gonna know who Ivan is, anyway? He know him before?”
“I don’t know,” Rudy then laughed. “Just keepin’ him busy so he don’t get all restless. ‘Sides, I wanna talk to the fucker, anyway. Remember that night we were chasing after some of those kids? Heard Stone lives in that area. An’ you know those two are together constantly...fuck. We should have just taken a drive down that way...”
As Rudy trailed off in thought, Eustacio shook his head. “Let it go, man. You’re lettin’ this power get a hold of you...thinkin’ you all invincible an’ shit...”
Rudy gave him a frown, then swatted his shaved head. “Man, shut up. Don’t talk to me that way. Get in the car, bitch. You grounded.”
Eustacio gave him a disgusted look, but went hobbling toward the Tundra nearby. Gabe laughed mockingly.
“Anyway, ‘sides...even if they weren’t the ones that fucked him up, I still wanna check it out. Always hated Evans, always hated Stone. Maybe we can get about to settling some things, eh?”
“I thought we agreed that Ivan was the one behind Eustacio’s beating, man?”
“...Yeah...I’m thinking he is? But I’m just saying, if it’s a possibility that he didn’t, let’s just start some shit, anyway.”
“...Ah. Okay! Sounds cool, man. ‘Sides, with Danny on our backs, we should get it easily, eh?”
“Yeah...s’what I’m sayin’.”