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Authors: Jack L. Pyke

BOOK: Breakdown
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Th’ fuck off
.” Back on screen, someone bumped into me. Jeff. Sweet young Jeff, sweet young Jeff who looked about to apologise, maybe ask if we were still on for later tonight, but I shoulder shoved him out of the way, making him fall, and a cheer went up through the lounge, beers held high. Jeff, the idiot, the same idiot that always acted like a sodding ball, bouncing back up for more; he refused to play dead, inciting more cheers and crowding personal space when he got up and came back in my face.

My head hadn’t even hurt after I head-butted him. Jeff landed heavily on the floor nursing a broken nose, blood covering his shirt. And screw me, there he was again, the typical bouncing rubber ball, starting to get back up, come back in—step back into personal space.

“Never did stay down,” I mumbled. After he hit the floor for a second time, Jeff had the shit kicked out of him, certainly enough to make him piss himself. Another thing that the camera hadn’t caught. I think I even picked a tooth out from my steel toe caps the next day. “Fuck me.” I looked away, not liking the thug in me as he played up onscreen.

A click of the hazard light went and I glanced over at Halliday, barely, before going back to the TV.

Steve was there, pulling me away, but the blood drive was already there, the need to wipe the crowd out and lose it all, keep kicking, just make the ball stop fucking bouncing. The lounge had gone quiet, something I hadn’t noticed back then; nothing had existed outside of kicking the shit out of Jeff.

“Jack,
stop
.” Steve came in again, with a tug off him to my arm, and it pissed me off even more, or it had pissed me off as a teen. Always there trying to stop the heat, bring in the drag of being around people, places, and touching—Steve shouldn’t have fucking touched me back then. I sent him backwards a few paces, loving the look of fear flare up in his eyes seeing him stumble.


Come on then, Jack
,” cried Steve.

Stupid bastard, calling me out like that. He didn’t know that it didn’t calm life, him calling me out, just offered another release point, another chance to make the crowd stand still in silence and let me pass without getting in my way. “Never could turn a fight down,” I mumbled.

Steve was sent stumbling back into the group of men behind again, and they did the whole rubber ball thing of making sure he bounced back at me. The jolt forced a startled cry out of Steve, and that jolted the shit out of me as he came sprawling over, nearly hugging me, nearly trying to push away at the same time. I grabbed him in close, for a moment scared to let him go, scared to fuck with what would happen if he pushed away. With an arm around his shoulder, I kissed at his head.

“Hey, Jack, get a room,” someone shouted.

“Nah.” Then I’d whispered in Steve’s ear, “Sorry. Fucking stupid, you coming in like that.” Eyes were screwed shut for a second. “Don’t come in like that again, you stupid bastard.” I kissed his head again before turning away.

Steve’s tug at my sleeve pulled me back, and the look in his eyes stopped the sound of the music, the thud of the beat in my chest—the need to go and fuck the rest of this shit out of my system.

“What’s Steve saying to you there, Jack?” The flick of a switch came.

“What he always said. That if there was a time to quit, now was it. Just never fucking listened.”

“What happened when you’d go beyond those doors?”

I looked at Halliday. The DVD had been paused, Steve’s hand caught on my arm finally managing to hold me there, even if it was in a camera shot.

“I’d get to see Cutter earn his nickname firsthand,” I said coldly. “I’d get fucked, feel his razor slice across my abs, between my thighs, and it would be the only time I’d get down on my knees for a man and plead all the goddamn yeses in the world to feel it. What I couldn’t fight or fuck out of my system, I made damn sure it was fucked out of me.”

“Only it didn’t work?”

I shrugged. “Back there.” I nodded at the camera. “He thought it did. That was all that mattered.”

Halliday nodded. “What are you saying to Steve there, Jack?”

I frowned, reading the look in young grey eyes. “Tired,” I said quietly. “Angry, pissed off, needed fucking... scared.”

“Scared? Of what, Jack?”

“Humpty Dumpty... how he sits on the wall, waiting to fall?”

“Again the rhyme. Who first told you it, Jack? Who keeps whispering in your ear? Why don’t you listen?”

Chapter 12
Whispers

Jack. Age 18

“You’re helping me at the garage today, kid.”

Laying there in my bed, I managed to tug the covers up over my naked ass as my old man came into my room. His was already dressed in work boots and garage overalls, the thick padding hiding his usual slim build saying he’s wrapped up warm. I hadn’t noticed the cold on my ass even though the window was open.

Searching through his pockets for his keys, he looked over. “I could do with a pair of extra hands. There’s a Beetle job on with a re-spray. You might as well—”

Wriggling feet caught his attention, making my old man pause, but the movement from underneath the covers hadn’t come from me.

“Well, I,” he stammered as I kneed Jeff in the leg, telling him to keep the fuck still, but my old man was going rapid eye movement between me and Jeff, who had managed to hide well out of sight under the covers just as the door had come open.

“Knock next time, yeah?” I said, trying to break the unease.

“Yeah, you, um.” My old man stumbled, stuttered, that goddamn blush I’d been forced to smack off his face for not knocking a few years back still there and seeming to infect me. “You just, well, you just get your ass downstairs. I’ll wait ten minutes. After that, you’re on your own and walking to the garage.”

“Sure,” I said stiffly, stubbing out my cig and blowing out a stream of smoke. Bad fucking habit, but then I had a few.

“Okay.” He turned to leave, then called back over his shoulder. “No smoking in the bedroom, kid. What have I told you?”

Making sure the smoke was out, I tugged the covers back, getting onto my knees, and more than getting a kick out of how Jeff jerked his nakedness into a tight ball as though my old man was still here watching. A bruise blackened a good patch on his shoulder, one eye was swollen, and his tooth had been tossed into the bin a day ago.

“C’mon, you fucking pussy.” I tapped at his hip, then more than encouraged him to open his legs up to me as I eased down. “Cutter said we needed to kiss and make up, apologise.” I nipped at his jaw. “So keep these gorgeous legs of yours open and apologise for spilling your beer on me, Jeff.”

I squeezed his balls, forcing out a grunt.

“Sorry. For spilling my beer on you.”

A little tug that pulled his balls hard and away from his groin earned a sweeter whisper. “Sorry who?”

“Jack,” he breathed. “Sorry, Jack.”

“There we go.” My cock was hard, already enjoying sliding down his offer of a tight ass and slicking pre-come in the wake. I loved his ability to bounce back, especially when it came to fucking, and I chuckled into his throat before biting hard to bruise.

Slag tagging, one of my favourite hobbies. He was a little jittery after the beating, shaking a touch now, but it felt so fucking good. Hand running through his hair, I bit at the other side of his neck, leaving teeth marks in amongst the bloodied redness, hearing his sigh, then I found his mouth, rutting my body against his, hard cock on his semi-interested dick.

Two years older than me, he still tasted virginal as I bit at his split lip, making him wince; then I was in, fighting to find his tongue and just play.

“C’mon, baby,” I murmured, dipping my hips, letting pubes mesh with pubes, dick against dick, balls saying
hi
and loving it.

“Still sore from last night, Jack,” he mumbled and, going still for a minute, I pulled back, now on my knees. “Here?” Making sure he was exposed, I had a look. The hole was red around the edges, looking so fucking good against his pale ass. “Thought I told you to shave this?” There were a few soft hairs, nothing too much, but I fucking hated hairy nuts and ass, all the fucking germs—hair. Just didn’t like a fucking hairy ass.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and he winced as I ran a thumb over his hole. It was hot to touch, and Jeff moaned, his ass jerking slightly under the play. It earned a chuckle off me, feeling his ass muscle shy away. My cock certainly loved the coyness, dancing a little against the inside of his thigh as I rode it for a minute.

“No?” I said, letting my cock slide up and down his balls, my finger teasing his hole.

“Jack. It’ll hurt.” Jeff looked down, watched me for a minute, then traced hand and gaze down my abs.

Flashing a small smile, I leaned down and licked gently at his inside thigh. “No?” I said, offering up a smile. “Seriously? I’ll make you beg for it, boy.”

“Fuck.” Jeff arched his back, hand now running over his own abs, drifting up over his nipple. His gaze stayed on mine and he nodded, just once, just a slight shift, and his cock seemed to dance in tune with it, the head now as red and angry as the heat I thumbed on his ass.

“Please,” he begged. So soon?

“Please?” I liked that. Yeah, fucking loved that pleading in his voice, how it made him barely whisper, caused him to tease a bite at his lower lip, nearly close his eyes. I pulled out a condom from the bedside unit, letting my hand hover over the lube, then quirked a smile and left it to sleep there. He was after a little hurt. Resting Jeff’s long leg up against me, I gripped my cock, loving the heat playing underhand, the veins bulging under my touch. The condom came on, then with Jeff turned slightly onto his side and watching him stroke his own shaft, I guided my cock to his hole. His other leg was between mine, my balls stroking against his inner thigh, his ass now fully opened up for me. “Fuck.” Even the heat off his sore ass played through the johnny, heating up my head.

“Jack.” He reached down, stopping play on his dick, to rest a hand on my abs, almost denying me my right to push in. My balls got a kick out of kink and pain, but I didn’t need to take anything by force. “Pussy,” I mumbled. Didn’t mean I was patient enough to wait, though.

“Jack, sorry,” he said again, this time with real hurt in his eyes, enough to show it would hurt if I fucked him raw.

I wasn’t a heartless bastard. Taking Jeff’s warning, I spat on his hole, made sure he had a little relief, then slicked my tip around him before feeding my cock into his tight hole. He groaned, shifting his ass a touch, wincing, and I gripped his balls, making sure he got the hint to keep still and take me.

“Jack...”

“Christ.” Every inch slid in him, dick bulging in the condom with the last few inches. “Fucking tight, our kid.”

“Five minutes, Jack!”

“Huh?” I groaned, brought back down a touch hearing my old man. Leaning over Jeff, I took his ass with hard, long fucks into him, forcing him to jerk and writhe underneath me.

“Yeah... C’mon, Jay. Fucking all of it—c’mon.”

Fucking hated how he called me Jay, and I eased a little gap between our bodies to give him a vicious tug on his balls, fighting now to roll with the need to come.

Jeff cried out and I hissed “Shush,” in his ear, covering his mouth, sometimes sliding my finger into his mouth, fucking him with that too as I fucked him hard enough to knock the bed into the wall.

“Fuck,” I groaned, now pulling his ass flat onto the bed. Legs slipped around mine, Jeff arching his long body and seemed to throw his body up, pulling me down with hands on my ass so I filled him.

“C’mon, you got me going,” breathed Jeff. “Fucking harder, you bastard.”

My hand slipped from his mouth, now grabbing at his throat, not to choke, just to grip, to make sure he knew who controlled this, that he took me when I was ready. Breathing hard in his ear, I bit at it. “Shut your fucking mouth.” I gave one hard fuck up into him that made him yelp. “You take it.” Jeff repaid another hard ride into him by scratching hard at my ass, drawing blood, leaving the cheeks stinging. “Fucker,” I hissed, arching into him, dick at its deepest and shooting at the surprise offer of pain. “Christ, Chri—”

“—st, yes, fucking yes.” Jeff started to come, and that was it for me. I pulled back, tried not to scramble off the bed as he shot, just casually ease away. He looked good, losing it like that, and that’s what fucking stung: knowing I’d bypass staying between his thighs, watch him writhe, instead opting for thumping the fucker for getting come on me. What kind of a man ran from something as intimate as spunk? I started on my jeans, my T-shirt coming next, then socks.

Jeff finished groaning on the bed, come shooting high on his chest, and I picked up his clothes and tossed them at him. “Tell Cutter I’ll be in late,” I mumbled, slipping on my trainers. “When you piss off home, don’t talk to my old lady on the way out. Ever.”

“Yeah, I heard how you like it,” he said quietly, eventually shifting his ass up to get his jeans over his ass. Come from his abs slicked up my sheets. Picking up a smoke and lighting up, I glanced over.

“Th’fuck y’mean? Who’s been talking to you?”

“No one. Nothing.” Jeff stopped pulling on his T-shirt, his look going between the door and open window. No good, he’d break his fucking neck jumping. “I’m just getting my things, then I’ll—”

“Piss off until I say otherwise.” I was already heading for the door. “Just make damn sure you change the sheets before you go. There’s spare in the wardrobe.” There were always spares in the wardrobe lately. “My old man rides my ass for your lot’s fucking mess.”

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