"Look, it’s gonna take that dude 15 years before he realises what he’s missing. He’s missing a lot, because you’re fucking magic. If that’s too long to wait, I can get Lemmy from Motorhead to cut off his cheeks with a straight razor. Totally up to you." |
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thelockbox2014-10-02 01:02 am
no subject
The thing was, he wasn't even opposed to it. It might be a little more forward than he was used to, granted, but the idea of it all, of getting to explore someone who was basically a clone of him in virtually every way. They could see just how alike they were. Anyone would be lying if they said they hadn't thought of doing themselves at least once in their life. It's just a thing that if you ever met your double you'd either kill them or fuck them, right? And fucking them was always the best option because it's the one time in your life you know you won't get judged. There's no fear there of what the other person might like or dislike about your body, not when they have exactly the same parts.
Maybe Ray should have looked closer at the dick pic when he had the chance, but that had been something he'd skipped past quickly when flicking through boob photos. Whatever, he'd get a view of it later if he agreed to all this weirdness.
When Ashby moves away, Ray lowers himself to his knees, finally able to at least look at the spread before him without feeling guilty about staring. Not that he's opposed to staring to hot, naked women anyway. Especially not ones as good looking and literally delicious as this. He does spare a look towards her face and offer up a small smile as if trying to seek some sort of approval, but then Lew's lean in and his attention flickers back to his mirror image.
So that's what he'd meant by no chopsticks. And here Ray thought it'd be finger food. That's certainly one way to eat a meal.
But that eye contact wasn't anything to do with the naked body in front of them, the tongue lashing out against bare skin wasn't really about the woman. This was between him and Ashby. Every bit of that eye contact suggested that, and Ray wasn't going to shy away from it, even though his eyebrows were lifting and his lips parting just slightly in curiosity.]
Uh. Dangerous? I uh. Huh? [How does speaking work again? Something to do with moving your lips and your tongue and throat and-- nope, still a distracting thought process.]
It's uh. I dunno. Kinda hard to put it all on a scale. I mean I guess bein' shot at by known psychopaths is kinda up there. But then there's almost drownin' in a sinkin' ship like you're in some sorta Titanic movie. Or, or. Drivin' an explodin' car, or uh. Like, it's all just part of the job. Protect and serve and get shot at a lot, that's the motto. It's what I'm paid for. Looks like I'm in the wrong business though, huh?
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He was still grinning when Ray started explaining about psychopaths and sinking ships and exploding cars, and that was so fucking awesome he closed his mouth and just looked impressed, eyes dancing across the other man's face as he described it as just a part of the job. Boring old nine-to-five, what a way to earn a living.
It sounded so cool. ]
That's the kind of lifestyle they're always trying to shoot down in the valley, though, isn't it? Getting shot at all the time, driving exploding cars, fucking your doppelganger. You should sell that shit.
[ Says the strange almost-rock star who knows what a doppelganger is; who is clearly much more shrewd than he at first appears. It's a good act, it's just that occasionally a sparkle of intelligence shows through. The quick wittedness and wild imagination really help, but mostly it helps if people underestimate him. It was - for one thing - a fucking fantastic way to make money if other people thought they were the ones getting the leg over.
But he's there: bright like a hundred karat diamond under a rough layer of shitty colored rock. He's always the one on top, even when he's on the bottom. It's just the way he rolls.
Lew put his hand across the table, gripping it where the wood was under her right elbow and leaning across the woman's chest, dipping low and raking a line of rice from her ribcage before lavishly stealing a morsel of smoked venison from her left breast. This he had to do without looking at Ray, but so confident was he of being watched that he lingered there for a moment with his tongue flashing against her bare skin, flush against her plush, springy bosom. Joyful, mischievous, he sat back, jerking his head up toward Ray in challenge. ]
You've barely touched your dinner.
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At least Ray won't be slapping Lew for it. Not unless he liked that sort of thing. Some people are into that, so Ray hears. Whatever.]
Nah, they wouldn't wanna know. Especially not when there's a Canadian involved. They want hard guys and hot chicks. [Definitely not him, a Mountie and a half-wolf. Ray wouldn't want the attention anyway. LA is the last place he wants to tell his secrets to.
He still watches, fascinated by it all with an almost child-like curiosity, head ducking just enough to get a better view of Lew's movements against the woman beneath. She really was a pro. If Ray had a tongue on him like that, he'd be writhing and squirming all over the place, and yet here she was, unmoving and still beautiful, like a stylish bit of art laid out before them. Shit, it was weird.]
I uh. Was just seein' how it was done. Kinda used to using my hands.
[Best excuse ever, right? And actually the truth for the most part, because this is like learning how to eat with chopsticks or something. It's a whole new method and one he's still just a little uncomfortable with. She's a good looking lady, only there because she's paid to be. Who would want a guy like Ray clumsily trying to eat food off them without a good chunk of money for their time? A guy like Ashby is fine. He's cool. He knows what he's doing and he looks slick doing it. And yet Ashby looked like Ray... This hurt his head too much.
Fuck it, he can do this. No problem. Just start easy, right? He opted for something a little tamer than Ashby's choices, settling for a beef sashimi balanced perfectly against the flat of her stomach. He hesitates only briefly, huffs out a soft breath and then leans down, curling his tongue around the sushi as his mouth wraps around it, mostly succeeding in avoiding skin. As he starts to sit up again, he chews thoughtfully, nodding his approval. Better and fresher than any he's had. Probably costs a damn fortune.]
That's... that's actually pretty good.
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[ Of course the real gift in all this was Ray wanting to watch him so bad that he ducked his head, but Ashby hadn't seen that. He could only read the change in his double's expression; the way his lips parted and his eyes sharpened with curiosity and desire. The thing about hanging out with yourself, it turned out, was that reading your own expressions was sort of easy--after all you made them all the time, you knew what they meant.
Ashby was not lacking in reflective surfaces. ]
It is, isn't it? Here, come on. We're still playing the tame version of this. Dinner parties around here are only ever good if someone gets laid, injured or arrested.
[ Ashby sat back just slightly, pulling off his jacket and stripping out of his Sabbath shirt. Only then did he draw out how the wild version of sushilady went, pretending to ignore the fact that he was flashing the ultimate question at Ray: tattoo? So this was the crazy version. Where two beers was supposed to loosen Ray up enough to get a healthy buzz going. ]
You wanna know how we do this, don't you? Okay, here's how we do this. First, I tell you what you've got to eat, I tell you from where. You play along, and it's your turn. You pussy out, I get to eat a sushi off that part of you. You lose you pretty much starve, but I get to suck sushi off every part of you, so I don't know--look on the bright side, huh?
[ He definitely emphasized the word 'suck'. ]
So for instance I'd say 'Hey Ray, dare you to eat that tomato rose out of her navel.' And you'd get right on that shit no questions asked.
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But now they were getting into it. The real part of all the show and bravado that involved something more than just Ray guiltily eating like this. He assumed Ashby was up to something more, one surprise after the other. They might have only known each other for an hour or two but Ray likes to think he can get a pretty good read on people, especially face twins.
The shirt comes off and Ray's left staring, constantly intrigued by what he'd see from this guy. It's the same. All the same. So maybe Ashby's learnt how to keep a little more weight on him somewhere in the age gap, and maybe he's managed to catch just a little more sun in Cali, but it's still an almost identical match, all things considered. Same shaping, same muscle structure, same-- is that a tattoo? Ray's tattoo? That tattoo had relevance and meaning in Ray's life, of days spent on the car with his dad, of engine parts and spark plugs and, and... it makes no sense.
He's so fixated that for a few drawn out seconds he's totally ignoring Lew, zoning in just in time to catch the rules of the game, unfair as they are. Ray's hungry, he doesn't want to miss out, but he's also not so sure he can comfortably eat sushi from a few more private areas when he hasn't even spoken to the girl. But fuck it, this was LA. He was in some rich, face twin's mansion and when was he ever going to get a chance like this again?
With a huff of breath and an eye roll, he follows suit with the stripping thing to avoid being the most over dressed person in the room. The t-shirt is easily tugged over his head, barely making a dent on the always ruffled hair, and there, there's the tattoo that he's not even going to mention beyond flicking his gaze to Ashby's.]
Yeah, yeah. You want me to eat a tomato? I'll eat a tomato.
[Example or not, Ray's going to get straight into this, eyes on Ashby as he bows forward and, without much flair, manages to wrap his mouth around it. He sits up almost immediately, grinning around the tomato rose between his teeth like it's some great achievement and then lifts a hand to shove it fully into his mouth. He's still chewing as he chooses Lew's turn.]
Hows about the nice arrangement of meats riiiiight... [And of course he points to the beautifully displayed slices splayed out across a nipple.] ... there.
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He licked his lips, letting the appraisal go unspoken, because Ray was clearly up for playing this game the right way, leaning across and plucking the tomato from her navel, keeping his eyes on Lew the whole time. It hadn't taken him long to get used to the idea, to accomplish a certain amount of cocky sensuality right out of the starting gate. Or maybe he's projecting that, but there's still something about having the other man's eyes on him throughout that he has to perceive as pure sex even if it isn't. ]
Yeah. Yeah that's hot.
[ He couldn't be more turned on. This--this game, this whole situation, was proceeding just fine so far as he was concerned. It made him ache the way he hadn't in years, and while usually it was true that he had some staying power, that he actually enjoyed talking for hours on occasion, this situation was different. He wanted. He wanted, and it was driving him crazy. He shifted a little uncomfortably in place, following Ray's gaze, his gesture. Nipple, huh. Tempting. Any other day he'd have been all for it, sucking and nibbling and lapping until every morsel was gone and the poor girl was trembling from the effort to keep still, but she wasn't what captivated him. That, without doubt, was the man opposite. ]
I do like me some breast meat. [ Which is terrible, but down he goes, drawing the moment out, playing to his strengths, almost as though he means to get right to it. His tongue reaches out, almost touching, almost as though he means to do it, but then he's rocking back on his heels, and there's amusement and challenge dancing in his eyes when he fixes them back on Ray. ]
I just can't do it. Expose the lady like that so soon into the game, leave her with one breast hanging out like that. It's just not gentlemanly. [ Because now he cares about what's gentlemanly? ] I think maybe I'm going to have to forfeit my turn.
[ He crooked his finger at Ray, plucking a piece of sashimi off her hip and dangling it in the air for a moment as though to make his point, and then he was leaning back on one elbow, draping the meat across his own chest, his own nipple. ]
Come on, Ray. Rules are rules.
[ Like he could pass up the opportunity to get Ray's mouth on his nipple even for a second. ]
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He's leaning again, enough to try and get an angle on Lew and that too perfectly shaped breast, a slow inhale of anticipation as that lewd tongue comes curling out and then-- shit. Was he pussying out? No. Definitely not. This guy had done this a million times before, and probably with people far more willing to lick and touch the girl than Ray had been.
This was something else. It was...]
Oh.
[Oh. Of course. If this wasn't about the girl, then Lew was using his own rules to get her out of the picture for this round. It's an obvious move that Ray should have seen coming, especially with that daring dancing in Ashby's eyes. A fine move to play too, like a totally legal but nevertheless dirty chess move. Lew knew how to play these pieces far too well.]
Y'know if I knew you were such a pussy, I woulda picked somethin' simpler.
[It's like a verbal eye roll, quietly amused as he heaves himself to his feet to head around the foot of the low table and then, only a few steps later, dropping himself heavily to his knees at Lew's side. It's obvious Ashby is up for this, and he's not even being paid for it. This is all just part of some weird foreplay game that the two of them are playing out, all because Ray had said he needed to be wined and dined first.
His eyes met Lew's again, gnawing on his own lip in the briefest moment of thought. He could do this.
Just be cool, cool as a cucumber. Remember back to the days when you actually got laid.
He still lowers himself forward slowly, not exactly hesitant but almost as if he's giving those extra few seconds to think, but then he shuts his mind off because thinking really doesn't help at all in this. Instead Ray opts for instincts, letting his body guide his mind.
Without any further thought put into it, his tongue extends, flicking a wet patch against Ashby's sternum, then dragging under the curve of his pectoral and back up, a damp U that ends it's path at the covered nipple. His tongue curls around the delicate slice of meat, lapping it into his mouth and then, just before withdrawing, offering one final, long lick against the nipple with the flat of his tongue. Just clearing up.
As he sits back, his gaze immediately locked back onto the other's, still chewing at the achieved food as he smiles around it, brows creeping up just enough as though he's looking for some sort of approval. That's how they play this game, right? He did good, right?]
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It was all Lew could do to lick his lips, to keep them moist and wet as the temperature raised a degree per step, and Ray came kneeling down on his side of the table like some kind of positively godlike younger version of himself, all eager and willing. This was going to work. Ray was so up for it, and even if half of that was bravado, and the inability to back down from a challenge - both things Lew had no problem with being himself - it didn't really matter. It'd get him there in the end and that was all that counted.
If he'd been transfixed by that mouth before, it was nothing to the things it was doing to him now. He was already hard as a rock and Ray hadn't even touched him - just that little lip nibble had been more than enough - and now he could only shift his hips very slightly so as to not deliberately make contact elsewhere, letting Ray lean over him, watching with breathless fascination as that mouth came closer.
His mouth, his eyelashes, his head of hair; the long languid stretch of muscled back exposed to him, the tattoo on Ray's shoulder as he supported his own weight, the slick hot heat of his tongue as it came down half a mile away from his nipple and licked a gorgeous path across to it.
Lew groaned, fingers and toes curling, inhaled a quick gasp and panted out something that sounded "A-ha--aaah" as Ray's tongue returned for a second go, sweeping across his nipple before he retreated, leaving it hard and wet and abandoned. That had been way more than he'd expected considering Ray's shyness with their dinner platter, but he couldn't find anything to complain about. Not if that was the kind of mouth action he could look forward to. It was hot. It was fantastic. It was everything that made the game worth playing.
Ray even looked up at him for approval with those fucking blue eyes, so full of sex, so much like his own. He raked his teeth against his own lower lip, searching for words, then sat forward. Lew wasn't going to spoil it by telling Ray how good he was, how great that had been: he'd show him instead. ]
Okay, okay. So uh-mm. You gotta take that sushi there off her Adam's apple.
[ He did know all the ways to cheat playing this game. Here was another one. And like hell was he going to let up so easily. There was less dancing now, more smouldering, a liquid sort of desire that hung in his eyes and thickened the air between them. It helped that they were now both on the same side of the table, decidedly not touching, even if Ray was well aware that Lew wanted to. Just a matter of time. ]
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It felt like someone had turned up the heat in the room in a matter of seconds, and Ray can't even help the slight heave to his chest or the sweat prickling against his bare skin. It really didn't help that they were now sat next to each without a table between them.
He wasn't so hungry any more. Not when he had all these other distractions to deal with. He really should have had a burger or something before coming, but he hadn't realised he'd be having to eat his meal off his host.]
Her Adam's apple, huh?
[Finally he switched his attention back to the girl, as if checking if there was any way around this obvious bend in the rules. But no, that's dumb, he's not thinking straight.]
I guess we both already know I can't do that, dickbag.
[Cheating or not, Ray will play along. He reaches for a nigiri balanced at her stomach, plucking it off carefully and, with a huff of effort, lowered himself onto an elbow just as Ashby had. There's one last chance for him to meet eyes with Lew's own stormy gaze, brows lifting in a silent come on, then and then he's hanging his head back and doing his best to balance the food right on the arch of his throat before lowering his hand.
Fuck, this was a little more vulnerable than he'd like to be, but he grits his teeth and waits, eyes locked on the extravagantly high ceiling. He's fine. He trusts this guy, he thinks, but there's still that distant paranoia that bubbles and churns in his chest.]
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Really? I have no idea what you mean.
[ But Ray was still playing along, hadn't flipped the nigiri in his face at the suggestion. Maybe Ray didn't play obvious so much, but Ashby could see that he was breathing a little harder, and that was deeply satisfying. All of this was starting to get through to him, starting to turn him on.
Oh, it was good. It was fucking fantastic. Ray was hot, and he was all Ashby's, and as soon as this dinner was over he was going to have him. Every inch. Probably sooner rather than later.
The moment Ray leant back, putting the morsel of food on his throat, Lew became very aware of the submission he'd asked for--the trust that was placed in him in turn. He owed Ray after this, there was no doubt. He'd flown all the way out here and let this stranger more or less have his way with him. He needed to be given something back for that.
Lew leaned in, being very careful not to unsettle that piece of sushi until he was ready, dipping his tongue into the bead of sweat that had caught in the hollow above Ray's collarbone, then licking his way upward, just the tip of his tongue rolling upward, against the grain of Ray's stubble.
He opened his mouth wide - as wide as he could around the sushi - scraped his teeth down, rolled his tongue up, and took the morsel back. He swallowed without chewing, then left little snapping bites working up Ray's throat. He peeled away slowly, but didn't tug himself out of Ray's lap, where he'd half climbed during the process of sucking his neck. ]
You taste good. Anyone ever tell you that?
[ But even if he was leant in over him, Lew was still keeping his hands entirely to himself. Actually he was more or less challenging Ray to push him away. ]
Your turn, Kowalski.
[ Not that Ashby was remotely interested in the food or the game by now. ]
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He keeps still for Ashby, breath catching in his throat as that tongue finds it's way to his collar bone, fingers curling expectantly. It may only be a brief example, but Ray's pretty sure this guy knows what he's doing with that tongue, and even as the teeth come into play, he can't resist his exhale finally releasing as a chesty "Nnn". Even as he straightens himself up, Ashby is still there, close and in his lap.
It's impossibly frustrating for him, that feeling of wanting and desire and craving some sort of release after months and years of blue balling. He could kiss Ashby right now, curl into him and let the action take over. But that's not right. That's not what he does. He didn't get flown over just to be some rich guy's booty call.]
Can't say it ever came up before.
[He murmurs, swiping his thumb up the length of his throat, the same path Ashby's tongue and teeth took seconds ago. But then he's moving, pitching his weight forward to shove heavily at the invasion of his personal space and trying to follow where Lew moves, right fist raising and ready to hit.]
You wanna keep goin' huh? I bet. Waitin' until I say somethin' like her pussy so you'll get me suckin' yer cock instead. I'm not a fuckin' idiot.
[But apparently he seems to think he's being viewed that way. Maybe it's the sudden opposition to that submission he'd shown, or that he's not entirely sure what he's even doing here in the first place, or maybe Ray just likes to be confrontational for the sake of it. He's not really thinking on the 'why?' of it too much right now, just that his brain said defend and so he defended.]
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Lew didn't know what he expected from the guy who'd asked him if he'd been in a real fight before, who'd looked more than ready to wrestle him or punch a hole through his teeth. Ray was a cop, and sure, up until now he'd put him entirely out of his comfort zone and seen Ray too out of his depth to know what to do with it, but it was all only a matter of time. He had to break at some point, and Ray had been reeling in his own self confidence for a while now.
When he sprang back into it, Ashby wasn't nearly ready for him. Those muscles weren't just for show. He was turfed back on his ass, and then Ray was coming after him, all but changing places, raising his hand up in a tight fist, looming.
He didn't want to get punched, really, but man he did find that hot. He'd been like that a decade ago. Hot headed, fucking his way through other people's ladies and throwing wild hooks at their men when they came looking for justice. Or just running away. Fast. Running away always worked better.
He wasn't going to run from this confrontation. There was too much to gain. ]
You are an idiot if you think I'd be that crass. I'll have you know I'm a fucking gentleman. Lew Ashby Esquire. Hah. [ He raised his chin, jutted it forward as though to say 'you wanna hit me, aim right here.' ]
It's your turn, Ray. So you tell me. [ His eyes flicked down deliberately, made sure Ray could see the gesture, see that he could really understand it. He licked his lips, let his eyes raise back to Ray's once again. ] You just say the word and I'll suck your cock, Ray. My mouth and every beautiful inch of your dick. C'mon. Who knows how to work it better than me?
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He never realised he had a face he so desperately wanted to punch, but hell, he's punched a few mirrors in his time, especially around the whole divorcing period, so yeah, it wasn't anything new to him.
Lew doesn't grapple back or try and be a dick about this. He faces up to it without flinching and Ray respects that enough to he's very gradually lower that fist of his. There's suggestion behind Ashby's actions and words, but then that's pretty much been the case since he first laid eyes on Ray. It's just difficult to know whether this had always be on the cards or whether Ashby had decided to pursue it after seeing what Ray looked like.
But a dick suck does sound good right about now. Anything sounds good right about now, though. Ray unconsciously licks his lips as he starts to shift his weight back again, muscles still tensed and jittery like he's ready to pounce back at any second.]
I don't usually do this sorta thing. The uh. The meetin' total strangers and doin' this. [The sexual suggestions, he means, not the threats to punch. Although he supposes he doesn't do that all that often either.]
I mean, it's cool. You're cool. Like with all the similarities and stuff. I just can't do that whole fuckin' bitches and sendin' them on their way the next day.
[A pause as he tries to work out what's he actually trying to say is:]
I don't wanna be another bitch.
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[ But Ray isn't going anywhere--not out of his lap, not away, not now Lew's got him where he wants him. As Ray starts to lean back, Ashby's hands find his hips, applying just enough pressure that he can't pull away without a deliberately jerk of movement. Make him feel special, make him feel like he has control. So long as Ray was up there he was looking down on him. Subtle subconsciousness stuff.
He got it. He did. Ray didn't do this sort of thing, and if this was just some chick he was talking to, convincing to come to bed with him, he'd do the same thing, play reassuring, take what he wanted. But Ray wasn't going to produce some child out of nowhere and demand to be made an honest woman, or get crazy and insist on things Lew couldn't give him. He could promise more, reassure more, than he'd ever genuinely give some random piece of tail. ]
You say that like you're not talking to a card carrying narcissist. [ He rubbed little circles into the soft dimples above Ray's pelvis. ] I love myself more than anyone else in the world. I'm no-one's bitch, and neither are you. So let's stop fucking around here.
[ And now he was pushing up into that space too, not pushing Ray of him, but leaning in until they were almost chest to chest, almost nose to nose. He tipped his head all the way over to the right as he spoke, close enough to kiss but clearly deliberately not doing it, snarling through his words as his mouth moved half an inch above Ray's. ]
You don't want this to be some casual fuck. Maybe I gave you the impression that's what I wanted. And yeah, I've wanted you since I laid eyes on you--just fucking look at you. Talk about primal fucking urges. [ Tipped his head back the other way; same sexual snarling closeness. ] The longer we pretend keeping our hands off each other means it's going to mean more, the less time we get to see what having our hands on each other actually feels like. Our mouths.
[ Back again, and this time he tagged Ray's lips with his own, snatching his mouth against the other man's but not lingering even for a second. ]
We're gonna fuck tonight. And tomorrow, and the day after, and I'm gonna show you the best time of your life, show you how the other half lives, rock your fucking world. LA's the city of fucking dreams and with me you're gonna see a side of it people usually never get to see.
I don't do that for just anyone. But be my guest. Your choice. You wanna do this, or you wanna just keep talking about it?
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If there's one difference between them, other than the age gap, it's that Lew seems to have a way with words that Ray never quite mastered. This guy makes everything sound so fluent and easy that's it's difficult to argue against what he says. He speaks sense while making it easy to understand. Maybe that's because Ashby knows what he wants from life, or it might come from the mass money and having people do what you say. Whatever it is, he's pretty good at it.
As Lew leans into his space, tips in closer, tilting his head, Ray doesn't even move. His breath shortens, huffing lightly against the lips that are far too close and far too tempting. The snarling words are good, adds a little bit of aggression behind it, makes it all the more appealing for a guy like Ray. This guy is never going to know all of Ray in a day. Even two. He's stupid to even think that it would have been possible. They could talk and catch up on every aspect of their lives, sure, but Ray can do that with any person he picks off the street. But the exploring? The fucking? That's something that you need to do with a doppelganger.
He doesn't chase the brush of lips, as much as he wants to, instead allowing Ashby to finish his inspiring fuck speech, giving Ray a chance to run his lips across his own lips, top first then bottom.]
We gotta do this. We can't not do this. Once in a lifetime, man.
[This time he's the one to lean in just that little bit closer, close the gap between them and brush moistened lips to Ashby's as though the kiss is some sort of signature on the contract of agreement.]
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[ Like he knows a billion people, but that's not really the point. This opportunity isn't just unlikely, it's unprecedented - like nothing that's come before or will come after - and the fortune that's brought them together demands some sort of karmic recompense. This thing is meant to be explosive, Ashby knows it, and he's not about to let that go.
So he waits for the briefest touch of Ray's mouth on his own, and then he springs loose all of that coiled energy, pushing his chin up into the kiss and pouring himself into it like kissing is his artform, his only way to express himself. His hands flatten, rubbing up Ray's sides, climbing his back, but all the while this energy is released without a single effort to flip them over, even though he's shown he has the energy to do just that if he wants to. Ray isn't really holding him down, but Ashby isn't really holding onto him either, so it all more or less works out.
But the kiss. There's never been a kiss that is more teeth in the first few seconds that wasn't someone literally biting the other person's mouth off. It's a rough, wet kiss, meant to draw gasps and leave bruises, and once he's snarled his teeth against Ray's lips each in turn his dangerous tongue lashes out, seeking the heat of the other man's mouth, albeit still entirely from below.
Not a girl's kiss. And maybe when he broke it he might dismiss their evening meal, because unless Ray has other ideas this is Ashby going from hot and heavy to hotter and heaviest in .5 seconds, and eating is literally off the menu. Dining was suspended until further notice. The only way to hold him back would be to physically restrain him, and even that would come with no guarantees.
He'd been given permission. Contract signed. Ashby Unleashed.
Maybe he'd slow down by about Monday, take Ray to the Rainbow to chill out. Hah, Raynbow. Seriously, after a weekend of Ashby the girls at the Rainbow would seem like a relaxing interlude. ]
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The fucker likes teeth it would seem, and Ray's learning that the hard way. It's just a good thing that he doesn't mind a bit of rough and tumble, because his mouth gets a battering.
But then there's that tongue, soft and moist and somewhat of a relief after the sharp sting of the teeth that came before, and Ray accepts it in, his own coiling in against it. He only gives the briefest scrapes of teeth against that invading tongue, almost a warning that he can do that sort of shit too. And jesus christ, Ashby practically even tasted the same, it was like his own mouth. It was his own mouth, more or less.
It's quite a feat that ray even manages to talk with the assault on his mouth, but he does, mumbling against those lips with his own battered pair.]
Always get what you want, huh?
[No hate there, he can respect a guy who knows what he wants and goes for it. Maybe Ray could learn a thing or two about that.
It's probably best not to get too carried away where they are anyway. Ray's not too keen to put on a full show for the sushi lady and the floor probably isn't the most comfortable spot to be for all of this anyway. Even if having Ashby still just slightly under him was quite the rush.]
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Not that he couldn't have gotten a girl to give that to him if he wanted. If he asked he could have anything he wanted. What was better was not having to ask. With Ray, he felt like they were much more on a level with each other. Okay maybe not financially, but they were literally physically identical, had that aggressive streak running through them--this could work.
He ran his hands back down, slid them across Ray's ass and squeezed, tugging him forward. ]
You'd be surprised.
[ He growled it back against Ray's mouth, lashed his tongue once more against the other man's, and then fell back panting, needing to catch his breath, rolling his eyes and his head up toward the sushi lady. ]
Hey uh--think we're done here.
[ And then his strength gave out and he flopped back on the floorboards, still tightly holding Ray's backside, a cheek in each hand. ]
That all you got, Ray; Ray Kowalski?
[ Sushi lady was sweeping sashimi from her chest with remarkable skill and leaving it in a messy pile on the table. Then she was away, pulling on a gown from under the table and disappearing out the nearest door. Ashby didn't even pay attention to the flash of naked ass that swayed away from him, his attention fixed on Ray, shedding challenge from every pore. ]
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This was still weird. Even if he forgot the whole identical person thing for a second, this was still out of Ray's usual comfort zone. He'd try anything once, sure, but he'd had monogamy for so long that meeting someone and screwing them the same night was still something that never seemed more than some fantasy. But this is LA. And when in LA...
Ray's a little more distracted by the retreating woman. Ashby's great, but Ray can't turn down a free view of a naked ass, which he pauses to stare at until it's out of view and then snaps his attention straight back to Ashby, now laying down underneath him.
The guy was practically asking for it, and while Ray's not entirely certain what challenge this face twin of his was trying to project, there's only one challenge Ray really understands. There he is, staring down at the man with his face, and he can do anything he wants. Anything. And Ray Kowalski opts for the one thing he knows how to do in times of uncertainty. He punches. It's just the one. A sharp jab downward, and he pulls the punch at the last second just enough to avoid causing serious injury if it hits, aiming away from the nose while he's at it.
But he's smiling, which is sort of a good sign. Maybe this is his thing. His way of showing affection when he's not sure how else to go about it. Ray's good with this physical violence thing between guys. He's never been so good on the wooing and the sex and what the fuck he's meant to do with himself during those times.]
I got plenty more if you can take it, Lew; Lew Ashby.
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So he doesn't know what he expects, except that Ray will inevitably rise to that challenge, and sure enough a second later there's a fist cracking into his jaw, pounding him down into those floorboards. He feels Ray pull it, but it's still some punch, a punch made by a guy who depended on his own violence to survive. Lew, on the other hand, made money by laying on his back and listening to other people play tunes. That was his thing.
And it really had been well...at least two months since anyone had actually hit him in the face. Wrestled with him, punched him in the gut, sure, but not the face. Not since New Years.
Jimmy Cricket this guy can throw a punch. And he's grinning--no, smiling. Big difference. Like he's finally comfortable in his skin again. ]
Alright [ He says, ego a bit bruised. ] I think I maybe deserved that one.
[ But he was drinking in that face, that smile - his face - and he couldn't help but be into it, punching and all. He arched his back, rising a few inches off the floorboards, wriggling under Ray deliberately. It was meant to provide a reminder that there was more to this than just his face, and planting fists in it (and what kind of sex was that anyway, where someone hit you?), but it was also sort of hot, and he could roll with it.
So long as he got the honey as well as the medicine. ]
You wanna show me what you've got, take off my pants.
[ Letting Lew grab his ass was one thing--besides which Ray would be in for a surprise. He was going full commando under his jeans. ]
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But then Lew's back in it, and maybe he's not laughing it off but he's soon arching up under Ray and prompting him with something that really should have been obvious.
Pants. Right. Maybe that's the sort of thing Ray should have been reaching for from the start, rather than deciding to slam his fist into the other guys face. Pants are a good next step to get this thing moving along, and really he's not entirely sure why he didn't just go for that in the first place. There's a moments pause as he lets that advice sink in, and then he's nodding along in agreement.]
Right. Pants. I suck. [Moron. But hey, it's been a while. He can't blame himself for mixing up 'get naked and have sex' with 'punch in the face... profit??'. Except he can blame himself, because he sucks.]
Hey uh, sorry. For the punch. I mean, uh, if you're not into that.
[He shifts himself a little further back to give better access to those jeans, his gaze flicking away from Ashby to focus on the button and zipper. Easy enough to open considering Ray practically lives in jeans himself and can easily thumb it all off one-handed and-- jesus, is he seriously not wearing anything underneath. Ray's just glad he didn't get anything caught in the zipper now. Fuck.
A pause, tongue running out against his own lips again, and then his hands are curling either side of the waistband and easing it down inch by inch to a reveal a far too familiar cock. Ray's got no shame in staring either, not when it's basically his anyway.]
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Hah. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I'll take what I can get. Anything that gets the blood pumping right?
[ Not that any of this is really textbook, though, is it? Ashby had of course fucked a few guys, and who could blame him? But Ray--he wasn't sure. Maybe he had, but maybe he hadn't. Maybe he had but like, a long long time ago. Ashby wasn't sure, after all he really didn't know him, but he didn't have to know if a girl had fucked half of LA to go down on her, right? Although to be fair if she had, it'd probably be safer eating off the floor of the men's urinal.
But Ray was on task now, and he got down and helped him on out of his jeans, staring down at him and licking his fucking beautiful lips, which with the profession 'I suck' from before really went a long way toward generating attractive fantasies. Sexy.
Ashby moved his hands, slid them down from Ray's ass to his knees and rubbed them, then rocked upward, pulling himself up so that he was sitting again, still underneath Ray, nudging in against his throat. He raised his nose a bit higher, then bit Ray's jaw really, really hard, digging his teeth in, bruising, rough, leaving behind marks. He was lightening quick, like a shark. ]
Yum fucking yum. Cmon, you want a fight don't you? Fight me. Fuck me. Don't even think of apologising for it. You're a man, aren't you? Well I like men to be men.
[ And that was what it came down to. A punch in the face was really manly. A punch in the face said I could wreck you or rock your world, so long as it was from a guy. Now a chick hitting you...he didn't want any part of that. Weird, not hot. Very fucking weird.
But Ray hitting him. He could roll with that. ]
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His gaze is broken as Lew lifts up again, curling in against Ray, nudging in against him and then there's teeth against bone and skin and Ray's hissing out his instinctual disagreement. Thankfully he doesn't jerk away, but the bite is quick enough that he's not given much time to react before Ashby's withdrawing and playing it smug. No wonder Ray had the urge to punch earlier, just looking at his own face with that much self-satisfaction makes him want to do it all over again. Fuck, maybe that's why he pisses so many people off in every day life. He's pissed off by his own face.
But it was good. Sexy. Nothing like a little pain to get the excitement going.]
You wanna fight, I can give you a fight. Watch yer fuckin' ears 'cause I'm gonna Tyson all over this.
[Rough and tumble it is.
Even if Ashby has only just sat himself up again, Ray's pressing a palm against his collar bone and shoving his weight forward and down, trying to get him to the floorboards again. The hand moves with the fall, slipping upwards from the torso towards the neck, wrapping around the base of it and pinning firmly but not squeezing. It's for symbolism more than anything, to show he could but isn't.
Even with Ashby's hands by his knees, he still shifts himself, one knee by a thigh while the other now settles in between Lew's legs and draws upwards, pressing up dangerously close to his balls. The movement syncs with Ray's other hand coiling tightly around the base of Ashby's exposed cock, gripping tightly just like that pinning hand at his neck. It all sets himself for the possibility of doing plenty of damage if he'd wanted to, but that's the point, all a show for this game.
And just like he warned, he ducks down in against an ear, lips curled up into a smirk as he snarls out, satisfied:]
You gonna fight back or take it like a little bitch?
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It's not a well balanced position, maintaining all those points of contact, but it's a powerful one. He can appreciate that. God, fuck, it turns him on, too, being helpless. Wouldn't admit it just like that because reputation was everything, but cuffs and bondage, subjugation, humiliation--that stuff really did it for him. So long as it came from an intrinsically safe place.
But maybe he was giving himself away anyway, because his cock sure did twitch hard when Ray bent in to growl in his ear. He hissed in response, rolling his eyes back to look away over his head as though there were any escape route that way. No. Well of course there wasn't. He groaned, tilting his face slightly away from Ray's, impeded by the hand on his throat.
Right. Fight back. He was going to fight back. Not really many places to go though. Not many above board places. But then Ray had a hand threateningly around his cock, quid pro quo--
He brought his hands up, defensively - apparently - at first, bringing one hand to the back of Ray's at his throat, the other curling around his hip. ]
You want me to fight back? I can fight back. You're not gonna like it though, that I can guarantee.
[ Then his hands moved, converging in the center, and he pinched both of Ray's nipples in finger and thumb and twisted hard, grimacing as he did so in anticipation of Ray's reaction, especially since all his delicates were involved in this fight. Guy had to have his priorities. ]
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It's hot. Seeing what is essentially himself pinned under him, coiled tense and ready, and oh, that certainly was a pulse of cock twinging against his encircled fingers. It's nice to know he's not the only one enjoying himself in all of this, even if the rock hard erection of Lew's and constant insistence for sex had already kind of given that away.
Ray's expecting retaliation, especially as he's just challenged Lew to it, but he's still not entirely sure where to expect it from. There'd been a few scenarios he'd thought to defend against, but the one Ashby opts for is definitely not one Ray had accounted for. Who the fuck uses a nipple twister as their final form of defence against an attack? Freak.
But actually a damn good plan considering Ray's lack of planning for it. He's not even sure what those wandering hands are doing until it's too late, and then there's fingers and twisting and he's left making a noise half way between a gasp and a growl. He curls in tighter against Ashby, pushing into the hands rather than trying to tug away from it, trying for some sort of self-preservation. The hand that had been settled at Lew's neck quickly jerks aside, landing as a heavy elbow by his head to try and support Ray's weight.
It's the other hand that Stan still has some control over, squeezing and jerking against that cock just a little too tightly and tugging just a little too firmly. His knee curls upward almost by instinct, but it's a fairly slow process; less of a knee to the balls and more of a firm, squeezing pressure.]
Fucker.
[That had stung far more than it should have. Maybe he's just sensitive there, lots of nerve endings or something, but it also meant it had appealed plenty. Good spot to go for, and now they were burning hot and delicate against that touch. He sounds more pleased than pissed off, tongue curling around Ashby's earlobe, teeth soon following to bite down against the flesh there, nibbling firmly without overdoing the force of the bite.]
No way to treat a guest. Y'should really make it up to me. Kiss 'em better or somethin'.
[And that vice like grip around his dick tightens again just briefly, as though an added little ultimatum of 'or else' on the end remains unspoken.]
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