Take me home tonight

[Jack Ripley]

Yeah, well. Was Allie a friend? More of a fling. Maybe he was a friend now. Two people who understood each other. Maybe... maybe... Jack thought with an upswell of hope--maybe he could actually help Allie. Maybe... he could redeem all the terrible things he did in the ugly desperation he understood all too well. Now that he felt more balanced, with both feet firmly on the ground. Maybe he had it in him to help somebody else. To really help them and not... not what the sickness inside told him was helping them.

He wished... he wished he could tell Brayden. All that he had already altered inside of him. How meeting him had fundamentally changed something inside him that he never, ever thought could be changed. How it felt like he was healing those jagged edges that carved him from the inside out. He wished he could share it all with Brayden, all the good things he knew were happening because of him. Maybe that would change something inside Brayden, too. Maybe Brayden... would never reach the level that Jack did, that Allie did. That so many others did.

But he didn't. Now just wasn't the time. Maybe later. Someday.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, refusing to say good night. No good night. It wasn't a good night. It was a stressful night. A strange night.

Back out in the cold, he waved back at Allie, holding up his small box. As he drew closer, he confided, "This is my way into my apartment when I'm dumb enough to leave my keys at a club."

He said it as if he had done it before. Never before had he done something foolish. In fact, back in other cities and towns, he had been quite adamant about holding onto his things. But... for some reason, Hazleton and Brayden and Marge and everything about this place made him feel... safe. Like he belonged, like there was no reason to worry.

In some ways, he was starting to feel less like a fraud and more like the person he was always meant to be.

"Now, watch this," he said, bringing out his lock pick with a flourish, more than giddy about showing off his skills. (The two glasses of Forget-me-not might have helped with the giddiness as well.) Kneeling before the door, he concentrated on carefully getting the lock open. And just like it had worked with B's apartment--click!

"Voila!" Jack said as he got to his feet, and gave Allie a sweeping bow before pushing his apartment door fully open. "Now come on and let's get you some lemon water."

[Alejandro Riviera]

You saw a lot of stars out here in the small towns, Alejo noticed. Laying on the bench outside with his head propped up by his hands, it was quite calm. Jack was inside doing Jack things with his softly smiling friend. Cute. The guy was older but he still seemed so innocent to Alejo. In his line of work he saw a lot of hardened people, criminals, murderers, rapists. Hell, there were a couple of rapists at the club just waiting to pounce. That man, B, wasn't like that.

Was that Jack's type? Jack was in there a long time. Alejo didn't look in on him; he started counting stars until Jack came back out. Ninety eight was the final tally. He sat up and his head swam as he called for Jack—Jackie. Alejo got to his feet and unsteadily tottered towards Jack, who was holding a little box. "Magic?" He asked keenly as he peered down at the little thing with all the seriousness of a drunk man.

"Ah. Lockpicks." Mark of a criminal, that. A box full of tools. Alejo laughed outright but it was a delighted sound, not even half-way drunk. He was sobering up quite a bit now and anyway alcohol never affected him the same way it did other humans. It was because he, too, had magic. His other forms accelerated his metabolism, helping to burn off the alcohol faster. That was why he had six drinks that night, fearing that two or three would disappear too quickly.

He watched Jack doing magic with little metal things, laughing when he seemed so inordinately proud of his own prowess. Alejo clapped loudly. "Brrrravo!" He rolled the Rs in a distinctly hammy way. "You, mister, are fulla tricks!" Alejo wobbled and held on to him. He shook his head as he clung to Jack again koala-style. His mouth was parched and lemon water sounded really good, but he didn't want that.

"No," he said to lemon water, tipping up onto his tippy toes to kiss the underside of Jack's handsome chin. "I don't want lemon water, Jackie. I want. Dick." And in case Jack didn't get it, he reached down to squeeze him through his pants. "Your dick."

[Jack Ripley]

Magic? Jack laughed at the idea of him using magic. He wished! No, it was just a lock pick set. He didn't even think about the fact that Allie may or may not be a cop. After all, he had felt the gun but hadn't gotten a look at it. And there had been no badge, as far as he knew. He couldn't imagine somebody looking like Allie being a cop so he just swept it away with all those things he noticed and then didn't care to follow up on.

"Mhm." Lockpicks. His lips curved into a little smile as Allie clapped for him. Another bow. Yes, yes. A magic trick! He could open doors at will! What a trick! He could be the next Houdini.

"You have no idea." Jack gave Allie a hooded stare before he smirked. He had so many more tricks up his sleeve. Some of them relevant to Allie's interest. Some... not so much. Also, what was that? No to water? Yes to dick? Said dick immediately responded to the none too subtle touch even through his pants. God... A little sound that caught in the back of his throat escaped unbidden. It only served as a reminder of how desperate he was to actually fuck or be fucked. Going it solo just wasn't the same.

"So thirsty," he said with a hint of mischief in his own tone. What? He got Allie out of the rotten situation he could have been in. There was nothing wrong with reaping the benefits of that, was there? At least Allie seemed more sober at this point and he'd ditched the strange attitude from earlier.

Jack outright smiled as he slid his arm around Allie's waist to urge him to come inside with him, closing the door behind him with the heel of his expensive Italian shoes.

"And so direct." He kissed Allie as he slid the lock pick case on the little table next to the door, walking him further into the living room and toppling over him, onto the couch. "Be careful what you ask for..."

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Oh, yes. Very, very thirsty Jackie," Alejo purred as his offer was immediately taken. That little magical fella in Jack's pants was all for it too—he felt it stirring under his palm and grinned. This was so much better than back at the club, when he thought he would lose Jack. That was... not something he wanted to revisit so he didn't. Not right now.

Right now Jack was pulling him closer and they were heading inside, into that vaguely familiar living room. Alejo kissed him back with every bit as much fervor as he did when he first saw Jack, letting the rush of familiarity and closeness envelop him as they tumbled onto the couch. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hazily recalled a different covering on the couch the last time he was here.

Did Jack entertain a lot of people here?

Alejo's smiling lips lifted away as he rolled over and sat straddling Jack. Slowly, teasingly, he lifted his shirt, letting skin show inch by inch. It really was a poor choice of clothing, now that he had a good look at it. So sheer that it would tear if it snagged on so much as a splinter. Why on Earth did he think this would be good to wear? Alejo removed it and tossed it aside, relishing the freedom of bare skin. He smiled down at Jack devilishly as he rolled his hips and ground their lower bodies together with a low sigh. "Mmm Jackie..."

[Jack Ripley]

"Oh, you little..."

Jack had plans for being mr-on-top. Instead, Allie seemed to have other ideas, since he rolled him right over and straddled him with ease. Again. He really did know what he was doing. Like Jack, he must have had his fair share of partners. Before, during, after the boyfriend? Jack was somewhat curious. And he still thought he was responsible for whatever had happened between Allie and his boyfriend. How could he not? He was the one that he cheated with.

Ugh. No, no. No thinking. He wished he drank more than two of those bright blue drinks now. Two were enough to give him quite the buzz but not enough to turn off that part of his mind.

Not that those thoughts stuck around for very long, with Allie lifting up his ill-advised top to reveal his naked chest.

"Much better," Jack declared as he slid his hands up over a beautiful, naked chest. Dusky pink nipples, that little hollow where his navel dipped. Narrow hips. One thing hadn't changed since their last night together and that was the fact that Allie was still gorgeous. Annnnnd even that thought was ceremoniously distracted by the sensual way Allie moved those hips.

His eyes half closed and his hands at Allie's hips invited him to continue with his motions. "Aa-aah... yes..." He arched his back and let his head drop back against the couch. Hands slid down over Allie's pants but they were so damn skin tight that it was impossible to slip between them and Allie's skin.

"We're going to have to cut these things off," Jack said in almost growl of frustration, even as he was fondling Allie's ass through the so-called "fabric."

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Deeevil?" Alejo finished for him, drawing out the word impishly. He was a little devil, wasn't he? Jack probably thought he had it easy tonight, dealing with a drunk Alejo. Well, joke was on him! Alejo wasn't even half-way drunk now! The alcohol really did speed out of his system; he felt so much more like himself and so much less like a dumb brat out on a bender just because he broke up with... the most decent man he'd met in a long while.

Ugh. Shit. No. He refused to think about Judah—which was something he and Jack currently had in common.

Unlike last time, Jack seemed pretty eager. He was already hard; Alejo felt it distinctly as their hips swayed and brushed. Friction built up as he gave in momentarily to some animalistic urge and rocked his hips quicker and quicker against Jack, moaning his name wildly. Then—suddenly—he stopped to prevent... an accident. Premature ejaculation was a thing. It was not now and never would be a thing in Alejo's world.

"You... need to find the secret to taking them off," he laughed as he leaned down to kiss Jack, letting him struggle with the leather pants. Oh they were on so tight that it actually hurt a little up front. Jack wasn't the only one getting excited; Alejo was ready to go too. But the fastenings at the front were merely for show—the real zipper was at the back.

He kissed Jack until some of that terrible heat inside subsided, long enough for him to divest Jack of his beautiful shirt. Bare chest met his eager hands as he scraped jagged lines down them, working his way to an obvious place. Alejo shifted down along the couch and let his lips and tongue replace his nails. "You're... so fucking gorgeous," he whispered against Jack's navel, flicking a wicked little grin up at him. Alejo's lips pressed against the obvious outline at the front of his trousers, tracing it shape, feeling its heat. God he wanted it... he wanted Jack to remember this, him, their shared moments. He recalled last time telling Jack that he wanted to be a part of someone.

He wanted to be a part of Jack. Jack said he could and then he didn't call, as though he forgot Alejo. Would he forget this night, too? What could Alejo do to make him remember? He undid the buttons, the zipper, nuzzling against Jack like an affectionate kitten but not really getting straight down to it. "Jackie..." He breathed against Jack's lower stomach, flicking his tongue into and out of his navel suggestively. "Am I still a part of you?" The answer had to be yes, right? Because—Alejo wasn't giving him another option, as he freed Jack from the confines of his underwear.

[Jack Ripley]

"Sure... why not... That's one word for it..."

And not a bad one. Little devil, little minx, little... no, he was definitely a devil. What was he doing? One minute he was building friction up to a place where Jack could just feel his toes starting to curl, the shivers going up and down his spine and in his loins. And then the next minute, Allie was just... leaning in for a relatively chaste kiss. When Jack kissed back, he caught Allie's lower lip between his teeth. They could both be devils.

Secret pants. Well, Jack was already playing with the back. He slid his hands upward and there was just the slightest line giving away a seam hiding a zipper. What the hell was with these things? Jack wore tight pants on occasion--although he preferred fitted to something that looked, well, painted on. He couldn't recall ever wearing a pair that zipped from the back.

"Who put you in these things?" Jack asked in amusement, trying to imagine Allie zipping them up on his own.

But even as he was unzipping Allie, he found that his own clothes were coming off, one piece at a time. Obviously, he didn't protest. He liked having his chest out in the open and he more than liked the direction Allie's mischievous little mouth was moving.

"I thought that was my line..." He slid a hand over the top of Allie's head, through tousled brown hair and down the nape of his neck. But again, Allie paused. Kept pausing, like he knew it was driving Jack crazy. Was that why? He wanted to be... a part of him?

"You were a part of me for days," he said, recalling how every movement made his ass hurt. How could he forget why? "...made working difficult, let me tell you." It didn't help that he got fucked up in that bathroom the very next night, though--which he so wisely didn't share with Allie.

[Alejandro Riviera]

"Magic, baby. It's all magic around here." Which was oh-so-true and didn't Alejo know the half of it—but he was willing to bet Jack didn't. It was still a funny line, though, he thought as he grinned. Yes, a magic hand lubed up those pants from the inside and plopped him into them. It took a fair few minutes to get just one leg in, he could admit that, and another agonizing few to get the other in. Jack didn't have to know that, though.

All Jack needed to know was that tonight he was getting laid. Which was pretty obvious, even if Alejo was teasing him with light kisses over fabric and eventually slowly pulling off his pants and underwear. More clothing to join the pile laid out at the foot of the couch. Now that Jack was fully naked, Alejo took him in. He was gorgeous. Really, really gorgeous. Long limbs, delicate long fingers, a beautiful torso. A beautiful cock, too. Jack also wasn't awkward the way some tall men were. He moved with fluid grace and he had the bearing of nobility. Of a King.

Alejo didn't know how he looked in that moment but his eyes were full of stars even if his position was less-than-demure. He smiled up at Jack and he liked the sound of that. He was a part of Jack for days. Days after their run-in, Jack still remembered that night? Alejo must have done more damage than he thought. Somehow, he couldn't be too sorry about that.

"Good. Because I'm still holding you to that, Jackie." He needed to be part of someone more than ever now. Having gotten the response he wanted, he got down to work and it was the least he could do to thank Jack for pulling him out of that club.

His experience with blow jobs wasn't extensive but Alejo couldn't claim that he had never done it. Or that he had never practiced on various partners throughout the years. Nobody ever complained, aside from his first boyfriend—but that was all kinds of clumsy, too much teeth, not enough saliva, not enough tongue. Alejo was also plastered, which made things like swallowing Jack to the hilt easy. Easier. His gag reflex kicked in and he lifted his head with a soft gasp, but then he was back again, using his mouth and his hands, bobbing his head around Jack, tasting him and taking him in in all his glory.

[Jack Ripley]

"You love your magic."

Magic pants. He almost laughed at the idea. Magic pants. Jack didn't even believe in real magic. Magic to him was all trickery and illusions, which he could also appreciate. Maybe Allie did a reverse Houdini to get himself into those so-called magic pants. Still a little tipsy, he let out a short laugh--he couldn't hold back the amusement a moment longer.

"And I love it... If I ever create a band, that's what I'm calling it," he said between soft laughter. "Magic Pants." He even put his hands up to his eyes and parted them, dramatic jazz hands style to show Allie the whole effect. "Although I think it'd work better if the hands were... down... there..."

Down where Allie was still toying with him. Jazz hands over the dick. Magic dicks. Maybe he was hysterical. Maybe he was just in an intensely good mood because he was about to get laid. Jack stroked Allie's head. Soft hair. He had soft hair. And a soft tongue. A warm mouth. A wet mouth.

"You're a goddamn wizard, Allie," he gasped, eyes slowly closing as his head tilted back. He swallowed hard, legs simultaneously wanting to part to allow for more room for Allie to maneuver and wanting to close around him to keep him momentarily in place. His fingers raked through Allie's hair, his hips moving of their own volition. T-too close... His hand tightened in Allie's hair and he could feel his body clenching hard, doing his best not to just let go so soon. Way too soon.

[Alejandro Riviera]

Magic Pants. Wasn't there a chick flick about that? It was in the title, he remembered. Alejo wasn't much of a movie buff; he settled down for them with Judah on quiet weekends but usually his naughty hands went places and he ended up forgetting the point of movie night. No, the point of movie night was to be naughty, and not to pay attention to what was on the TV screen.

He felt plenty naughty at the moment, working his mouth around Jack's cock. Beautiful cock. Magical cock. Now, see, that would have made for a hilarious band name. Magical Cock. Starring Jackie and Allie, the drunks.

Alejo hummed agreement since his mouth was currently occupied. He was a goddamn fucking wizard and he was a wizard at fucking, yes. Yes to both accounts. Feeling Jack's thighs tense against him, he reached up with one hand to press down against Jack's abdomen, as though giving him the strength to not cum. Maybe removing his mouth was a better idea. Alejo came up for air, grinning and licking his lips like a hungry wolf. He levered himself up and crawled up along Jack's body, all predator.

One of his other forms was a wolf. He knew the way it felt to stalk prey, to chase them through dark woods and when he finally had them under his jaws, to—bite. Alejo's teeth scraped the side of Jack's throat as he ground his own aching lower body against Jack's erection to show him that he wasn't the only one who was suffering.

"Jackie... baby..." A low purr, a sultry growl, his lips were right by Jack's ear. Alejo's hand slipped into Jack's hair and gripped the silky smooth strands. "I want you... to show me how much damage you can do. Fuck me. Right now."

[Jack Ripley]

Oh, he was going to. If Allie didn't stop that--what he was doing right there, with his tongue as if it was ensorcelled with some kind of magic, too. Sex in itself, Jack thought, was some kind of magic. It was the easiest and quickest way to bond physically with a person. All that sciencey stuff about hormones and oxytocin and all that--it felt good to be close to another human being, for skin to touch skin. The first thing nurses wanted mothers to do when they had their babies was to hold them... skin to skin.

And from then on, that was what humans wanted. Touch. And touch... oh, touch could be so many things. Gentle kisses to the forehead and fingertips against fingertips. Touch could be a hand on a cock--or a mouth on a cock, in this case. It could be teeth against clavicle. Nose to nose. Cock to cock. Lips on ears. Ooh, Jack liked that. His eyes closed and he smiled as if he heard the voice of the messiah himself speaking to him. Even if the words were crass, the voice was melodic. Jack personally liked that--the juxtaposition of hard and soft.

So. Now it was his turn.

Jack shifted his weight so that he could flip Allie over and pull his hips up close. Oh, he could fuck him from the front but if it was damage Allie was seeking, this was the way to do it. Rough. And he liked it, the feel of it, the animalistic nature of fucking a man hard from behind. He liked being the one fucked, too. A flicker of a drunken night--a man named Sal, bending him over a sink and fucking him. Dry fucking him, too. No wonder he couldn't forget. But shhh, it was all Allie. He thought about Allie a great deal more than he thought of already forgotten Sal.

Slipping his hand between Allie's legs, he finally touched him. Velvet and heat, hard and straining. Sure hands with long fingers stroked with a sultry and almost nonchalant rhythm. Teasing. But his other hand was at Allie's back, sliding down his spine and parting him. Teasing some more. Allie had a responsive body. Just looking at the shape of his ass and the pucker of his asshole made his body weep. He aligned their bodies but didn't enter. The wet tip of his cock slid over Allie's eagerly awaiting hole but bumped over it. Rubbing against him raw... it felt... good. Wild. Feral. He gave Allie another stroke, this one harder than the last.

"How much damage," he asked, voice a low murmur against the back of Allie's neck, "are you willing to take?"

Really, it was his way of asking lube or no lube? And he hoped the latter this time because... the need in him was rising to an unvoiced scream inside every vein and every cell of his body.

[Alejandro Riviera]

Sex was a strange thing for Alejo and always had been. He didn't have one of those tragic back-stories where someone took advantage of him when he was young and raped him or molested him. He was loved as a kid and that shaped how he saw love, too. His body had never been mistreated, except by himself or by his permission. Relatively speaking, Alejo had it easy growing up.

But sex, he felt strangely about it. It was necessary, of course. A good time didn't have to mean anything romantic or emotional. There was such a thing as no-string-attached sex. In a relationship, however, things were different. But Alejo wasn't like most. He could be possessive and at the same time, he was not a jealous man. He could watch his lover fucking another man in front of him and barely feel a flicker of jealousy. All he really needed to know was that his lover belonged to him. That he was a part of him. Everything else was mostly... biological.

This muddled that line for him. Sex tonight was mingled with that newfound awakening he had earlier—his epiphany. Sex was usually just sex but tonight he needed something that he wasn't sure even Jack could give him. Despite his playful teasing and baiting, inside the darkness was still growing, ever growing, growing beyond his control. He wanted to hurt. To be hurt. To claw and to be clawed at. He needed something rough, hard, painful.

Jack... Oh, Jack. He must have been a mind-reader. Or maybe Alejo's rough and needy tone gave him away. Flipped over onto his stomach, he let his body simply sink into the couch. Even before Jack touched him, he moaned purely from anticipation. Lewdly he thrust into Jack's hand and revelled in that particularly sinful kind of friction that only another man's hand could offer. A woman's hand was too small, too soft, too delicate. But a man. A man knew how to grasp another man, how to squeeze the shaft, twist up at the head, swipe a thumb over the slit and make it all gloriously wet, slick, sticky warm.

"Fu-uck Jackie," he whispered with his face buried into the couch cushion, as a teasing hand worked its way down to his ass. Alejo pulled his hips up higher as though to encourage Jack to get on with it, but of course—he didn't. Well, it was only fair, he supposed. Alejo backed his ass up against Jack when he felt something distinctly large and hot and solid nudging him, but it slipped away at the last moment and he made a needy sound half-way between a sigh and a groan.

That was a good question, though. As if he even needed to think about it. As if his body wasn't already on the brink. This was so horribly uncivilized. This was animalistic, raw, primal. Alejo let out a delirious laugh and reached back to curl his hand around Jack's cock, to pull it back to his waiting ass. "If I'm not screaming," he moaned as he positioned Jack and wiggled his hips again, "you're not doing enough damage."

[Jack Ripley]

To that, Jack smiled--he couldn't help it. Sometimes, a man did just need a rough fuck. Tonight, they were definitely on the same page. Jack wanted a rough fuck, too, and Allie seemed more than willing to oblige. Good. He looked down over Allie's body, over the way his hair brushed his ears and how... beautiful a man could be, face down, ass up.

"Now I'll be a part of you."

He could have been a part of him already, if he allowed himself to let go earlier. But he didn't want to. Not like that. Not so soon, not so fast. Because his mood was mercurial and he wanted it this way. Rough and hard. Nothing too soft. Not right now. Besides, stopping to lube up would just kill the vibe they had going.

Licking his lips and swallowing hard, Jack's hand teased at Allie's ass, massaging and coaxing him open with his fingers before he mounted him. Even as his cock entered the heat of Allie's body, his other hand stroked and stoked the fire he knew had to be building in Allie's loins. He could feel it, in all the tension in his body, in the way his body seemed to anticipate him, to hold him there just as Allie had held onto his arm in the club. Tight, unwilling to let him go.

Warm and tight. So fucking tight. Roughly, he thrust himself inside up to the hilt. There was barely any time to settle in before he began a highly frictional, punishing pace. His hand purposely left off the most sensitive part of Allie, lest he also cum too soon. Instead, he brought his hand up Allie's chest, over pert nipples. Hard as a rock. Then up and around his shoulder. Into his soft hair. He pulled it. Hard. Pulled his head back so that he could capture his pale throat with his lips, tongue, teeth.

And then they were both around his throat, his hands. And he squeezed until he could feel the throb of his heartbeat. He was so alive in that moment.

"Scream, Allie," he demanded in a rough voice. He thrust hard and deep one too many times. All that friction, painful and pleasing all at once, was taking its toll. One more deep, deep thrust, as far deep as he could possibly go, and he was biting down hard on his own lip. He tried to stop it, but there was no stopping it this time. Heat spread inside of Allie and spilled out, down his thighs.

[Alejandro Riviera]

The smile in Jack's voice made Alejo smile too. "Part of me..." he murmured to the couch cushion, because it was beautiful how in synch their thoughts were in that moment. Yes, Jack would be a part of Alejo forever. And sooner or later Alejo was going to be a part of Jack. Forever. By any means necessary.

Anticipation was the worst part of waiting but it was so much more intense knowing about all of the good things to come and not being able to do anything to obtain them. In his position he was vulnerable, part of the reason that it heightened the sexual tension so much. Alejo didn't know when, he didn't know how soon Jack was going to get on with it. He felt the weight of Jack's body settling over him and tried to get a look over his shoulder at him. So beautiful, the way Jack's eyes glittered in the light.

"Come on baby," he groaned, and then the torment both stopped and began. It hurt straight away and it hurt the way Alejo wanted it, piercing down into his groin. His fingers clenched against the cushions as the upper half of his body strained up, arms shaking, back bent and head down. He cried out at the first thrust but it was a distinctly pleasured sound.

Jack's hand. God, he had amazing hands. This wasn't his first time at the circus, either, and it showed. Alejo didn't know what he expected but the intensity of the pacemaking took his breath away. It hurt so good that he couldn't find the voice to scream and instead he mashed his face into the cushion, letting out a wordless, soundless cry. "A-ah!" Even that sound was small, catching in the back of his throat at the sensation of a hard fist in his hair. His throat worked around the formation of a scream but that didn't come out either, as Jack's hands wrapped around his throat so hard that colored lights popped in front of his eyes like a starburst.

And finally he... he was whole. As darkness encroached upon the edges of his vision he caught a glimpse of something so beautiful, so serene and so fucking perfect that it brought tears to his eyes. This was what he craved. The agony of being fucked raw and the pleasure of sweet, welcoming death. He wanted to be fucked to death. Yes, yes yes yes, fucked to death. To go out in a blaze of glory, screaming and begging for Jack to go harder, deeper, to rip him apart body and soul.

"Jack! Fu-fuck me Jackie fuck me fuck me fuck fuck fuck fu—" His screams ended in a high-pitched sound of ecstasy. Body wracked in tremors, he bucked against Jack even as Jack thrust fully inside and came, filling him with the most exquisite, molten heat. It spilled down the inside of his thigh and he tried to close his legs to keep it inside of him, where it belonged. Where Jack belonged, deep inside.

"Mmm... magic... baby..." Alejo collapsed onto the couch and just breathed. His hands went to his head, into his hair, and he tugged hard, fingers flexing open and closed. God. That was the fuck of a lifetime, he was sure. Vaguely he felt his own pulse racing against the side of his throat and reached down to feel the bruises. There had to be bruises. He needed there to be bruises, or Jack hadn't done it right.

[Jack Ripley]

Ah... He closed his eyes and everything slotted perfectly into place. Peace and tranquility. All the voices in his head that loved to scream and whisper and claw their way to the forefront of his mind were silent, lovely and silent. And he felt weightless. Boneless. A soul, fire. His smile of contentment was warm, belying the darkness of that final moment, when he squeezed Allie's throat so tight that his nails tore through him.

Did they... did they really? Breathlessly, Jack shifted himself so that he could lie there next to Allie on the couch. Its seat cushions were luckily wide enough to house them both. That was a part of being a tall man; he tended to buy large beds, deeply cushioned couches, tall stools.

Their bodies melded together, both warm, both slick with sweat. Jack pulled him a little closer, and he looked at the wild disarray of Allie's hair, his hands at his throat. Slowly, he reached out, sliding his hand over Allie's hand. There was blood. His hazel gaze met Allie's, absurdly concerned, after having fucked the poor man raw.

"...you're bleeding," he said, taking Allie's hand away and trying not to wince at what he'd done. This was the start. The start of something bad. A bad pattern. A pattern he didn't want to repeat. A pattern he vowed not to repeat. But it was there, stark against Allie's pale, delicate throat. Four red marks, like claws. Bleeding and bruised. His thumb brushed over Allie's jaw. He curled Allie's smaller hand into his and he could feel the warmth of blood between them.

"...I'm sorry." That never should have happened. He let things get out of hand again. He almost...