Disclaimer: "General Hospital" was created by Frank and Doris Hursley. I do not own the characters of this work of fiction and am not making any money from the writing of this. Please enjoy. The title is borrowed from George Thorogood's song, "You Talk too Much"

A/N: Inspired by Jerry's monologue while shooting Jason. My mind has taken this on quite a different turn, thinking about what Jerry had planned for Sam and well, wondering just what the man would do if he had Jason at his mercy and was not so gung-ho on shooting him or well perhaps just talking him to death. Maybe all the time he was hesitating, this is actually what he was contemplating...

You Talk too Much!

Jason was trapped beneath the rubble, completely and utterly at his mercy and Jerry smiled at his fortune. If only the scenery were a bit different. Rather than buried beneath a pile of stones and wooden beams, he pictured the man termed as Stone Cold bound hand and foot to that round bed in the room he had left Sweet Sam in to await her 'customers'.

He supposed that he should not be prattling on so, but well, he couldn't help himself. He had the infamous Jason Morgan at his mercy and wanted to savor the moment. Oh sure, the hit man for hire seemed to pride himself on his sense of vaunted morality, but Jerry knew better. He knew that the man of stone's heart was just as cold as his own. They were men of action, made of the same tainted cloth. Only he was the better man because he made no pretense, proclaimed no hold on morality. Morgan, on the other hand, was delusional believing himself to have possession of something which he could never fully attain, unlike his klutzy lackey whose moral compass lead him to be involved in far more dangerous situations than was warranted.

And so, he talked, as much to pass the time as to play out the fantasy in his head. Relishing the thought of having the virile young man supine on his bed, unable to move, much as he was now, he continued to talk. A drug running through his veins which would render Morgan paralyzed, yet able to feel, hear, smell, and respond adequately to his wants. Smiling, Jerry continued his rapport even while his mind envisioned a vastly different scenario.

…

"Morgan, how lovely of you to visit," he traced Jason's face with a longing index finger as he sat next to the immobilized man splayed out on the satin bedspread. Loosening his tie with his free hand, he used the other to caress Jason's bicep, grinning in amused lust as his delicate touch elicited a shiver from his unwilling consort.

"You like that?" Jerry laughed at the wide-eyed look of terror in Jason's blue eyes, "Oh come now Morgan, no need to deny that you enjoy my touch. I should say that we will become, how shall I put it? Better acquainted in very short order. You might as well put off the act and start enjoying yourself." He began to unbutton his shirt deftly with one hand. Meanwhile, his other hand was trailing down toward Jason's navel.

He marveled at the rock hard muscles barely hidden beneath the black tee-shirt and the moan, just above a whisper, which his tender touch wrenched from the paralyzed man's lips. "Tsk, tsk Morgan, all in due time," he chastened, "let daddy slip into something a little more comfortable and get you into something more suitable to the situation."

Grinning lasciviously at Jason all the while, he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it to the floor and worked the cufflinks on his dress shirt loose. Kicking his shoes off, he used a stocking clad foot to stroke Jason's inner thigh while he finally freed himself of the meddlesome shirt.

"Like that?" Jerry chuckled at the single tear which had left a trail on Jason's face as the man's body twitched in response to his gentle ministrations. "Daddy's got more where that came from." The look of horror swimming in the unshed tears of Jason's eyes only served to further turn him on.

"Now, where to begin?" Jerry straddled Jason's belly, positioning the immobile arms above his head, pinning them on either side, though there was no need as Jason was entirely incapable of moving. Jerry enjoyed being Jason's puppeteer and for a moment indulged in imagining the many positions he could place the adaptable body in. This was so much fun! He could do anything he wanted to the man, he had always looked the part now he was perfect, plastic made flesh, his very own living Ken doll.

"This shirt, as much as I love how it showcases those solid muscles, is in the way," Jerry removed his hands from Jason's arms and reached down to pull the shirt from its mooring in Jason's jeans. "Just as hard and taut as I imagined," he sighed as his eyes suggestively followed the movements of his hands.

Jerry shifted his position so that he was astride Jason's lower body, their pelvises conjoined, only the fabric of their trousers-one gabardine, the other, denim - separating them. Another tear spontaneously spilled from Jason's panicked eyes and Jerry brushed at it with a well-manicured thumb. Licking the salty droplet, he sucked his thumb in a provocative manner before prizing Jason's lips open with it.

"Shh, don't cry, Daddy's gonna make it all better," he purred as he stroked Jason's plump lips nimbly with his thumb. "Be a big boy for Daddy," he urged as his mouth bore down on Jason's.

Now, he was the master and Jason was his protégé. After having his fill of Jason's mouth, tasting the acrid fear on his tongue, his lips progressively made their way from Jason's pliant mouth to his yielding neck to his adamantine chest. Biting a nipple, his hips surged, sending his groin into Jason's supplicant one.

Grinning, giddy as a schoolboy, Jerry lifted his head and locked eyes with Jason, "Does little Morgan want to come out and play with Daddy?" He groped for the jean's button at Jason's waist, a desperate urgency to divest the man of his clothing making itself known in his aching groin. Cursing softly under his breath, he worked frantically at the stubborn zipper with fingers itching to touch the warm flesh hidden beneath the rough denim.

"That's it," Jerry's triumphant eyes once again sought Jason's as he shimmied the jeans off of the frozen man, deliberately touching his cock with a trembling finger, he caused the helpless man's cock to harden even further. The sadist who perpetually dwelt within Jerry Jax was inordinately pleased to note that Jason's spirit was still intact as he could discern even through Jason's tear obscured eyes the deep abiding smoldering rage which inflamed them. He knew that Jason wanted to kill him, would indeed kill him given one iota of a chance. It was simply incumbent upon Jerry to make sure that chance never came his way.

"That's a good boy," he pulled the stiff, resistant jeans down even further, leaving them pooling at Jason's knees while he removed the inert man's boots. "Really Morgan, you should invest in a nice pair of loafers, or do all your lovers delight in working up a sweat in the gargantuan act of prying these puppies off your feet?" He looked up at Jason, desiring to share his humor with the man, but saw, regrettably, that Jason's eyes remained devoid of anything but stone cold malice.

"Such a spoilsport, Morgan," he said with a heavy sigh. Shaking his head in disappointment, he removed the unwanted jeans and gazed in undisguised lust at Jason's naked body.

"Much like myself I see, no need for the added encumbrance of tighty whiteys. I must confess, however, that I rather enjoyed undressing you. I would venture to guess that I find myself to be in the unique and privileged position of being the only man ever to do so," he crooned, " Daddy's little ken doll. Though thankfully you are much more anatomically correct. It will, I imagine, make what is going to happen next a little more enjoyable." His voice silken with desire and his eyes covetous with lust, he stood at the foot of the bed, and slowly removed his belt,"For me at least..."

He laid the belt on the bed next to Jason's quiescent torso and made a show of stripping his black trousers off. Gyrating his hips in sync to a jaunty tune he hummed quietly to himself, he sauntered over to the bed and spread Jason's legs with practiced ease. "If I had a nickel for every time…" his eyes gleamed finding Jason's as he stroked the younger man's cock.

"That's it, come on, do it for Daddy," Jerry giggled gleefully as Jason's cock jumped in his hand. He increased the movement of his hand as he repositioned himself so that a knee was on either side of Jason's lower half.

A mad maniacal laugh that raised goose bumps on Jason's nude body ripped through Jerry as he continued to methodically stroke Jason's penis. Jerry's breathing was uneven, he couldn't believe how intensely arousing the stricken look of pure misery in Jason's eyes was. He could sense that Jason was almost ready to explode. Biology couldn't be denied.

"That's it, just a little further, come for Daddy..." he urged, his voice hoarse with want. Already he was contemplating what he would do with the rest of Jason's compliant body when a loud bang disrupted his concentration and he found himself staring down in puzzled bemusement at an unconscious Jason Morgan still trapped under an unforgiving pile of rubble.

…

Shaking off his fantasy, noting with some measure of embarrassment intermingled with disappointment that his cock was stiff and hard, he glared down at Morgan.

"Oh, well, bullets and sex, both equally titillating really," he shrugged to himself insouciantly, placing the gun back in his holster, being careful not to touch the still hot muzzle, as he turned to go, leaving the man to bleed to death. Maybe a little visit to Sweet Sam was called for to help soothe his most recent disappointment.

A/N: Feedback is much appreciated. Please, if you are able to, review. Thank you