Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They’re also not usually this overtly gay, or this naked, so if that’s not your thing, move along. Much thanks to my beta, Kerensa Evans!
The buzz crept up Richie’s spine as he neared the biker bar and he shivered at the still-unfamiliar sensation. Immortals were supposed to be larger than life, heroes and villains on an epic scale. He had a hard time accepting the notion that a two-bit thief like him was going to live forever when someone as amazing as Tessa was dead.
From the uproar coming from behind the bar, Richie wasn’t the only one having trouble accepting it. He walked around to the back of the building, unsurprised to find Mac in a brawl with three beefy Hells Angels types. He was kicking ass, of course, but that wasn’t the point. “Mac!” Richie yelled as Mac trapped one man’s shoulder and torqued his body down. “Mac, stop, you’ll break his--” Richie winced at the wet crack and the resulting scream. “--arm. Mac!” Duncan wasn’t listening. The only way to stop this was to take away the targets of his rage. Time for the four magic words: “The cops are coming!”
That did the trick; half the crowd ran off and the two less-battered Hells Angels picked their buddy up and ran for it. Duncan straightened up and glared at Richie, his eyes dulled by grief and alcohol. “You shouldn’t have done that, Richie.”
Richie held out his hand. “Gimme the keys, Mac.” When Duncan brushed past him, Richie snapped, “Crashing your car isn’t going to kill you, man, and personally, I can think of better ways to spend the night than waking up in the morgue again.” The only answer was a splash as Duncan tossed the keys in a puddle and kept walking. “Oh, that’s just great, Mac. Thanks.” Richie fished the keys out of the puddle, got the T-bird out of the lot and started driving slowly beside Duncan. “You gonna get in, or just let me drive alongside you like the world’s biggest jackass?” he asked. “Listen, you asshole, I loved her too!”
Duncan’s shoulders slumped. He stood there in the street for a long while, then got into the car next to Richie.
Richie drove back to the dojo, watching the street signs to keep from getting lost. What the hell had possessed Duncan to buy the run-down gym, anyway? Probably the same thing that made him buy a run-down barge. There were times when the man made no sense to him. They took the elevator up, and Duncan shed his clothes as he walked to the vast, empty bed. “See you in the morning, Rich.”
Richie flinched at the dismissal. Since the night Tessa died, Duncan had made it clear that Richie was no longer welcome in the bed the three of them had shared. Richie had been devastated, losing both of them so abruptly like that. He’d gone along without protest, tiptoeing around Duncan in the belief that Duncan knew best, that either Duncan needed time to grieve or else that it was wrong for teacher and student to be lovers. But the way Duncan had been lashing out at everyone, it had become clear that there was no great plan behind Duncan’s coldness, only sorrow and targetless rage. And it was just as clear that if the storm was to break, it was up to Richie to take the first step.
Richie pulled off his shirt. Duncan’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of here, Richie. I told you, I want to be alone.”
“I know what you told me, Mac,” said Richie, unbuttoning his jeans slowly with his eyes on Duncan. The jeans dropped to the floor and Richie toed off his shoes and stepped out of the tangle of denim. He’d gone commando tonight, planning for this, and his cock stirred as he walked towards the bed despite the butterflies in his stomach. He’d never bottomed before; growing up in foster homes and on the streets, taking it up the ass was something to make wisecracks about, something to be wary of. Would it change him? Was it going to hurt? They’d each done it to Tessa more than once and it hadn’t hurt her, and he’d been mostly okay with it when he’d cleaned and stretched himself earlier tonight, but even if he could convince Duncan to participate, the older Immortal was a few sheets to the wind and more than a little pissed off, not exactly in the mood to be gentle. And worse than the physical pain, what if Duncan called him a fag and threw him out? What if he lost his teacher over this?
Richie climbed into bed, stalked on all fours until he straddled Duncan’s body. Duncan’s hand shot up to grip Richie’s throat, immobilizing him. “I said, get out.”
“No,” said Richie, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at the hate in Duncan’s. Blind, his fingers skimmed down Duncan’s arm to his chest, reacquainting himself with the springy hair that covered Duncan’s broad chest, the solid belly that jerked a little as his thumbs brushed the floating ribs. One hand began tweaking Duncan’s right nipple, while the other rose to play fingers across Duncan’s full lips, resting his weight on the hand gripping his throat. Duncan’s fingers moved Richie’s neck back and forth, manipulating him like a rag doll, and the movement translated down Richie’s spine to grind their erections together.
“This isn’t going to happen, Rich,” Duncan growled. “I told you when we started this with Tess, I’ve never been with a man before, and I don’t plan on starting now.”
Richie’s eyes snapped open to glare at Duncan. “That’s bullshit, Mac, and you know it. You’ve kissed me. You’ve touched my cock -- more than once -- and I’ve touched yours. You’ve been inside Tessa that way; it’s not like it’s something new to you. All that’s left is some bullshit label society’s put on this.” He looked down at where their cocks brushed against each other, full and glistening with precome. “We’ve been this close before, inside Tessa, why is this suddenly not okay?”
“Because she’s not here,” said Duncan, his voice harsh with pain.
“No, she’s not.” Richie agreed. “And I miss her like hell. But we’re not the ones who died.” He ground against Duncan’s cock again and this time Duncan shoved back, planting his hands on Richie’s hips and bucking up to meet him. Richie bowed forward to kiss Duncan, his hands tangling in Duncan’s hair as the warm, wet cavern of Duncan’s mouth opened to greet his tongue. Richie pulled back a little, nipping Duncan’s lower lip, kissing the corners of his mouth, then slid his tongue in for another taste. This was a stranger dance, loving Duncan without Tessa there to balance and soften the two of them, and Richie needed to take his time, gather his courage for what he intended to do.
Duncan’s hands slid around to cup Richie’s ass, groaning in appreciation as he discovered the well-lubed entrance. “Rich, are you sure about this?” he asked, echoing Richie’s own thoughts.
Richie gave a small, scared chuckle, then sat up on his knees, looking down at his golden-skinned lover, his teacher, the man he’d do anything for.
“At least turn over,” said Duncan, “It might be easier if you lie down and let me do the work.”
“If I turn over, I can’t see your face,” said Richie. The worried awe in Duncan’s eyes gave him courage as he guided Duncan’s cock to his ass and slowly pushed himself down.
God, it hurt! Even stretched and lubed, Richie felt the sharp, burning pain as Duncan slid inside him. He bit his lip, remembering Tessa. She’d done this countless times for them, knowing all along that she would die one day, that the two men would need each other’s comfort. If she could handle this, he could, too. He pushed down and down until he rested against Duncan’s belly, feeling his stomach cramp a little at the invasion. Then he rocked up, and down, and again, and suddenly the pain wasn’t so bad anymore. The fullness even felt kind of good.
Duncan didn’t thrust, just waited while Richie got a handle on what was happening inside him, but his hands caressed Richie’s chest, his thighs, and then settled to gently pump his now-flaccid cock. Richie leaned into the touch and as he did, something inside him sparked to life, like a buzz running all through his cells. He cried out in surprise. “What the fuck was that?”
“What was what?” Duncan asked, freezing. “Did I hurt you?”
“N-no,” said Richie, driving himself down onto Duncan’s cock again, aiming for that incredible spot that made his whole body hum with pleasure. “That’s, oh fuck, that’s, Mac, Mac, don’t stop--” He groaned and started fucking himself on Duncan’s cock in earnest now, urgently pumping into Duncan’s hands, feeling that buzz of pleasure growing stronger, stronger, like it was going to obliterate him, and he was getting just the tiniest bit scared now, that he wasn’t going to come back from this, but a big part of him didn’t care anymore. Duncan was groaning and thrusting up, bracing Richie with one hand while the other jacked him off, and oh fuck! Can’t take this, too good, Mac, don’t let me go, don’t let me--
It felt like he was dying again, the roaring in his ears, the spots in his vision, but it felt so indescribably good and he was coming, he was coming, shooting urgent pulses all over Duncan’s chest. Then he fell, shaking, and Duncan gathered him up and hugged him, repeating, “Are you all right? Richie, talk to me.”
When he was able to remember words, Richie kissed Duncan’s chest and said, “Oh man, you have no idea.”
Duncan squeezed him close. “I thought for a second that I’d hurt you. You’re really all right?”
“Oh yeah,” said Richie, the long night finally taking its toll. “I’m more than all right.” He looked up at Duncan and smiled. “I think we’re going to be okay.”
Duncan kissed the top of his head. “I think so, Richie. I think so.”
End.