Title: It was a dark and stormy night
Author: RabidX (rabid_x@yahoo.com)
________________________________________
It was a dark and stormy night 6
By RabidX
He said, he said...
Bobby stood under the hot spray of the shower. He was washing his hair, foam flying everywhere as he scrubbed
vigorously. Leaning back to rinse, he began to sing.
"If you had my love and I gave you all my trust, would you lie to me?" J.Lo had nothing to worry about.
He shook his head. Not that song. So how about....
"Bawwiddabawdebangdebang...oh fuck it. I got no idea what he's saying anyways."
Humming something low and tuneless, he finished the rinse and went on to the repeat. Suds slid down his back and legs, ticklingly reminding him of the slide of Angelo's arms. Felt nice. He started to wonder what it would be like with less cloth involved. Nice, warm, and a bit .... oh man! Was he really going there? His half erection bobbed in the water. Guess so.
He shook it off and finished his shower. Wrapping a towel around his waist and rubbing his hair with another, he paced his room. It had been nice to talk to someone about how he felt. Someone who understood, being that they had a bit of the same problem. Felt like a burden had been lifted somehow. And now, he knew he could face a few more days with The Lovers.
"And get over myself!" he complained to his reflection in the dresser mirror.
*knock knock*
"Just a sec. Undressed Iceman, enter at your own risk!" He called as he grabbed a pair of jeans. He dragged them on
and bounced to the door.
Flinging it open, he startled Remy. "Remy! You old dog! How ya been?"
"Er... fine, t'anks." He shifted at Bobby's wild, wide eyed grin. "I was wonderin'... would you stop dat! You look like
a lemur on crack!" Bobby stopped, barely suppressing a giggle or two. "Now, I was wonderin', movie or cards after
chili?"
"Cards, but you and Jono can't do that mental luvie-dovie I-know-what-cards-you-have stuff. No fair to me and Ange." Bobby said, bouncing backwards to get a shirt.
"You need t' see Henri about bein' manic. An' I would nevah cheat at cards!" Remy said, hand on chest in mock
indignation.
"Sha! Anyway!"
~~
"Stop stallin', vato! How many cards you want?"
~'old yer water, I'm thinkin'!~
"Don' got water. Drinkin' beer."
~Oright, gimme two.~
Angelo slapped two cards down for Jono. So far, Remy was skunking them all, but Angelo was coming up fast. His pile of pretzels was almost as big as Remy's. Bobby kept complaining that his pile was smaller because he was
hungry.
"Den stop eatin' 'em and get more chili." Remy suggested, as he tossed four more pretzels in for ante.
"Can't. Makes me fart." Which Bobby did just then.
"Match, light a match." Angelo gasped, clutching his throat. Bobby just giggled.
"Philistines." Remy said, lighting a cigar he had lifted, along with the beer, from Logan's room.
"Spanish American, actually." Angelo said, straightening up.
Jono rolled his eyes. ~Why did I ask you 'ere again?~
"My big ole soulful eyes?" Angelo asked. He and Bobby collapsed into giggles.
~Missed sommit, I did.~
"Moi aussie. Full House." Remy said, laying down his cards.
Bobby slapped his down. "I...." he peered at his cards. "Lose!"
"Ouiai, an' I am tired. Time t'clean up." Remy said, rising.
"Hey, me and Ange will get it." Bobby looked at Angelo, who nodded. "You did dinner and all."
~Yer sure?~ Jono raised eyebrows at Angelo.
"Works for me. See you in the," Angelo looked at his watch. "Afternoon. I'm not gettin' up early!"
Beer cans were emptied, pretzels swept away and chili bowls loaded into the dishwasher. Bobby grimaced as he
inspected the cooking pot. He filled it full of hot water and soap, leaving it to soak. He turned and watched Angelo
shoot empty can into the recycle bin, like he was playing basketball for the NBA.
"Nice shot, Shaq." Bobby said, as one can rolled on the edge and dropped in.
"Nah, too much like a free-throw for Shaq to sink." Angelo said, with a grin. "You got the dishes?"
"Done. So..." Bobby looked around. "Guess we're finished here."
"Yup. Guess so." Angelo said, moving over to lean his elbows on the counter across from Bobby. "Not really
tired."
"Me neither." They looked at each other, a bit too long, maybe, and they both looked away. Bobby felt a blush
starting to rise.
"Um. I know! Video games!" He said, reaching for something to break the awkward moment.
Angelo snorted. "Bet I bet ya."
Bobby grinned evily. "Betcha don't!"
They raced for the living room.
~~
"So, that's what you ment." Angelo said, staring at the ceiling. Sounds, intimate sounds, passionate sounds, bed-
hitting-the-wall sounds, drifted through.
"Yup." Bobby said.
"How did you get any sleep on the couch?"
"They weren't this loud last night." Bobby said, twisting his controller around. "Dammit! That was my last guy!" He watched his final character get turned into a zombie.
Angelo shuddered as an escaped mental groan ran across his mind. Bobby swore and threw down his controller.
"Come on. Harry's might be closed, but I know where we can get a drink." He jumped up and pulled Angelo with
him.
Soon, they were sitting out by the rain-filled pool, drinking Jack Daniels. Bobby had figured out where Logan had kept his alcohol, stashed under his sink, like a near-lethal bottle of mouthwash. He and Angelo passed it back and forth, drink and drowning The Lovers out of their minds.
"You'd think, " Bobby said, slurring just a bit, "That they'd BOTH know how to be a leetle more quiet." He held his
fingers up, about an inch apart.
"Specially Jono." Angelo groused. "Hombre don't 'say' nothin' loud enough to hear in your head half the time."
"I hear ya." Bobby agreed solemnly.
They both burst into giggles over that. Hands reached out and grasped shoulders as they leaned and laughed. Angelo slid to his knees at Bobby's feet, boneless with laughter. It trailed off as Bobby looked down at him. Down into eyes so dark they were almost black, bright and searching his.
Before coherent thought crossed his mind, he pulled Angelo up and kissed him. Soft, whiskey tasting lips brushed
together. Angelo's breath sighed out across Bobby's cheek as he pulled back slightly. Angelo licked his lips nervously, and dove back in, parting his lips, letting Bobby in to taste and plunder.
"Not out here." Bobby gasped after a moment. "Too cold." Angelo nodded and rose.
They walked to Bobby's room in silence, hands entwined. Once the door was closed, Bobby wrapped his arms around Angelo's waist, pulling him close. Angelo laid his head on Bobby's chest. It wasn't Jono, he wasn't Remy, but for tonight, maybe it was enough.
Bobby slid his hands into Angelo's hair and tilted his head back. Bobby kissed Angelo hard, bruising his lips, sucking and nipping at them. Angelo pressed his body tight to Bobby's, hands scratching at his back, trying to get under his shirt. Muffled grunts echoed in the room as they tried to get clothing off and not break the kiss.
Finally, they fell onto the bed, having shuffled across the room. Bobby let out an 'oof' and Angelo took the
opportunity to strip them both of their confining shirts. Flesh skated over flesh as they moved closer, moved together. Hands roamed, touching, caressing, squeezing what they found. Sweat made everything slick, sticky hot, no finesse, just raw and full of fire.
Angelo sucked a pebbled up nipple, drinking up the squealing gasp from Bobby. He was on top of Bobby now,
pushing him into the bed as he nipped hard at him. Bobby yelped and bucked, trying to connect more of his body to
Angelo's. Angelo squirmed, licking his way down the heaving belly, lashing his tongue here and there, tasting and
biting. As he reached his target, that hard, red, weeping point, thrust up like an exclamation, he felt his own grabbed, pumped and squeezed. His moan vibrated around Bobby's cock as he sucked it into his mouth.
Bobby was sure he was going to cum any second. Angelo's tongue swirled around him as he sucked, pulled, nose nearly buried in the dark patch of curls at the base. His hand was shaking around Angelo's erection as he tried to keep pace. So fucking good, but not quite what he wanted. He sat up, pushing Angelo off and pulled him back, roughly, onto his lap. He kissed Angelo one more time, then slid his lips, teeth down along the sharp jaw.
Angelo wrapped his legs around Bobby's waist, extending himself just a bit to stay steady. Bobby's erection was
pressing, throbbing against his ass. He ground down, making Bobby moan.
"Nnggh. Aw fuck!" Bobby gasped against Angelo's throat.
"Yeah, that's what I want, 'mano. Fuck me." Angelo hissed.
Bobby nodded, his face and hair damp against Angelo's chin. He slid his hands down to a very small, firm ass and
spread it. Shifting a bit, his cock twitched at the tight opening it found. An impatient growl from above was all he
needed. He thrust up, pulling that ass down.
Angelo wailed as Bobby shoved into him. His fingers dug into Bobby's shoulders, leaving marks, as he pushed down, wiggling, trying to take it all in. More, more, more was all he could think and rocked, grasping and pushing. Pain, red and sharp, flared behind his eyes. He ignored it, until, with a thrust from Bobby, it changed to white-hot pleasure, searing his nerves.
Bobby pressed the side of his face to Angelo's chest. His eyes were screwed tight, face contorted, a look of someone
crying or dying. His breath came in rough, sobbing gasps. So tight, an almost painful heat grasping around him,
pushing and rocking, welcoming each of his shoves upwards. Angelo's rock hardness stabbed his stomach, bringing him back to self somewhat. He slid a hand between their tightly pressed bodies and wrapped it around the shaft. He began to fist it roughly, trying to time it with his upward strokes.
Gasping and moaning, no words, near crying with all of the wet-hot-pleasure-pain, Angelo felt himself being driven closer and closer to the edge. Heat built deep in his groin, his ass as Bobby filled him, stretched him. A sudden shift, a sharp shock against a small place in him. He fell over that edge then, slipping and falling, waves of electricity firing along each nerve. His wail rose and fell with them. His muscles grasped and pulled at Bobby, velvet iron grip. Bobby shot himself deep, choking a ragged cry out.
Bodies near collapsing, they held each other tightly. Angelo mumbled and moan inarticulately in Bobby's hair. Bobby snuffled and gasped against Angelo's chest. As pulses slowed and breathing became easier, Bobby tipped back and laid Angelo down next to him on the bed. He fumbled up the covers, pulled Angelo, once again, to him. No words, just small tears from burning eyes.
~~
Remy woke, feeling disoriented. Something... raw... was scraping at his mind. He rolled over, eyes searching the
dark. A faint cry reached his ears, a small noise of passion. He blinked, his eyes suddenly watering, from the intense emotions nearly bashing at his shields. He buried his face against the back of Jono's neck and built the shields up stronger. Jono stirred, feeling Remy in his mind.
~'s goin' on?~
<Jus' makin' sure we don' get caught up in somethin' we don' wanna. Go back t'sleep.> Remy stroked his hair.
~Love you~ Jono mumbled.
<Je t'aime.>
~~
Angelo woke with a groan. His head ... and ass... were throbbing. He felt sore and stiff all over. Except his arms, he
couldn't feel them. He cracked his eyes open and found him wrapped up with Bobby. As he tried to pull his arms back to himself, Bobby woke with his own groan. Whiskey, chili and too many cigarettes made their breath smell like something died in a sewer. They both grimaced and turned away. A brief struggle that left them both cursing weakly, and, finally, untangled.
"Ah... man, what ran me over?" Bobby groaned, pulling a pillow over his head.
"More like who ran who over, vato." Angelo said, looking around for his clothes.
Bobby blinked under his pillow. What...? Oh shit. He pulled the pillow off and watched Angelo pull on his jeans. He sat up, painful though it was.
"Hey, I'm sorry." He whispered.
Angelo's head snapped up. "Sorry?"
"Yeah, y'know..." Bobby said, gesturing at the clothes strewn everywhere. "About this."
Angelo felt his hangover turning ugly, his mood following right behind. "Whatter you sorry for?" He knew is voice
was rising,but he didn't care to stop it.
Bobby got up and pulled the sheet around him. "Please don't shout. It hurts and might wake Remy and Jono."
"What, you 'fraid they might find out? Man, fuck that and fuck you!" Angelo shouted.
"Already did that." Bobby grumbled.
"No, essa, *you* fucked *me*. An' now yer all sorry about it?" A loud stream of Spanish followed, Bobby was sure he was being cursed soundly, probably for the next three generations.
"Hey, now you're being just a bit fucking unfair!" Bobby shouted back, jerking on his jeans. "We were both drunk!
And yes, I'm sorry! We shouldn't have done what we did, man! It... it was a mistake!"
Angelo's jaw tightened. He would not cry in front of this man. "Yeah, you got that right! I'm sorry I wasted your
time."
~~
Jono's eyes snapped open. He could hear Angelo and Bobby shouting.
~Rem, wake up.~ He shook Remy gently.
Remy sat up with a start, eyes wide, ready for trouble. "What, cher?"
~They're fightin'. Come on.~ He jumped up, pulled on jeans, and ran out the door.
Remy was fast on his heels as they stopped outside Bobby's door. They couldn't miss the cursing, the angry tones. Remy reached for the door, jerking his hand away as it was flung open. Angelo bounced off Remy and fell to the floor. He spat a curse at Remy.
~Wot the bloody fuckin' hell is going on?~ Jono snarled, stepping around Remy and helping Angelo up.
"None of your business!" Bobby snapped.
"Hey, y'woke us up. Makes it my business." Remy drawled.
"Oh *just* what I need!" Bobby said, slapping his forehead.
Jono looked at Angelo. He felt him shaking when he pulled him up. Now he could tell there were tears burning in
Angelo's eyes. Unshed, but glitter bright. He glared at Bobby.
~Wot yer need is a fuckin' kick in the arse, mate!~
"Oh wonderful!" Bobby said, rolling his eyes. "Why don't you just piss off and let me and Ange take care of this?"
"Watch yer mouth, Bobby." Remy said.
"Watch my...? " Bobby gaped. "Oh that's it! Out! All of you! Get the fuck out of my room!"
He picked up the rest of Angelo's clothes and threw them at Angelo's retreating back. "And you! Since you don't wanna listen, stay the hell out of my way!"
Bobby slammed the door and leaned his back against it. What had just happened?
~~
~Ange...~ Jono said, once the door had slammed behind them. ~Please tell me wot's goin' on.~
"Nuthin'." Angelo said, sullenly. He headed for his room, Jono and Remy following. "Just a mistake."
~Come on, mate. Tell me.~ Jono pleaded. He hadn't seen Angelo look this strung out since their mis-adventure across country.
Angelo sat down on his bed and fumbled a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt. He handed one to Remy, who
nodded thanks, and lit up. Remy leaned back against the dresser while Jono leaned in the doorway. Angelo sighed
and shrugged.
"We got drunk. He kissed me." He shrugged again. "Things got out of hand."
~Just how outta 'and?~ Jono asked, alarmed.
"Jono!" Remy admonished. "Bobby's not dat type! Go on, Angelo."
"Nuthin' more to tell. We got drunk, we fucked, he regrets it." Angelo said, hurt and angry.
Remy shook his head. "Dat jus' don' sound like Bobby either."
~Which part, drunk or regret?~ Jono said, rolling his eyes. ~'e regreted you, didn't 'e?~
Remy stared. "He doesn't regret Remy." Angelo said. "I'm just not him." He looked up from under his brows at Jono, then to the floor.
"An' he's not Jono." Remy spoke the unspoken thought he saw in Angelo's face.
~Remy!~ It was Jono's turn to admonish.
"I'm right ain't I, Ange?" Remy said. He could sympathize, but he wasn't going to let his friend take all of Jono's blame. "You two got drunk an' figured fuckin' de best friends would make it all go away, n'est pas?"
"Whatever." Angelo said, small voiced and subdued.
"Hn." Remy snorted. "An' for dis, we get woken up, cher. We should let dem work it out, dey bot' adults. Mostly." He held his hand out to Jono.
~Ange?~ Several questions rolled into one name. Angelo just shrugged once again and waved him away.
~~
Jono let himself be led back to their room. He was confused. He looked in askance to Remy, eyes wide, brow
furrowed. Remy sat him down on the edge of the bed and faced him.
~Am I th' only one confused 'ere?~ Jono asked, as Remy took his hand.
"No, petit, I t'ink dey bot' are too. Dey got drunk an' hoped dat, maybe bein' wit' someone close t' who dey love, would make dem feel betta. It didn't, an' now dey're pissed dey got stupid." Remy explained, rubbing the back of Jono's hand with his thumb. "Sound like Angelo messed up as much as Bobby."
~But... tha's just plain... stupid!~ Jono exclaimed, shaking his head.
"Ouiai, it is. An' you gotta stop wantin' t'blame Bobby fer everyt'ing." Remy said. "He's my friend as much as Ange is yours."
~I don't know Rem....~ Jono sounded unconvinced.
"Jus' trust me here, cher." Remy whispered, pulling Jono close. He kissed an ear and rubbed his chin on the top of
Jono's head.
~It's just so fucked up.~ Jono said, pressing his face to Remy's throat.
"Got dat right in one."
~~
Bobby stared at his ceiling. Over and over last night and the morning played in his mind. Things he could have said chased circles there.
Like: "No no, Ange, I don't regret sleeping with you. I just wish we had been sober. Better to enjoy it."
Or: "Don't get so pissy! We're hung over. Come back to bed and maybe we can work on these headaches. I hear orgasms work wonders for pain."
Or: "I ment sorry I was so drunk. Not sure I gave you proper treatment. Wanna try again?"
Or: "Please don't go. Stay and let's talk about this."
Or: "I'm sorry because I took advantage of the fact we were both drunk to try and make my selfish self feel better. I
didn't want it to hurt you."
Round and round.
~~
Angelo laid in a hot bath, staring at the wall. When exactly, had it gone wrong this morning? Was it him or Bobby? Why couldn't he have just taken it for what it had been? Sex, even great sex. Someone who, even for the night, had touched him. A respite in all the fucked up shit that his life had become.
No, that wouldn't have worked. Even that was a lie. It was replacement fucking. Just like Remy said. Bastard. Why did he get to be right? And, even though he had been thinking of Jono for most of it, it hurt. It would hurt more when Bobby realized it too. Hell, maybe he already had. Maybe that was what he was trying to say.
<Better get packing. This vacation's over.> He pulled himself out of the tub.