Over the Top: Terror on Gay Street
Chapter One: A night on the town
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, Metal Gear or the KGB. Those are owned by Stephanie Meyer, Sega and Vladimir Putin. Also note, this story is rated M. So you young uns, click the back button while you still can.
Side Note: This story is based heavily off of another fanfiction story called Over the
Top by starfish422. Fans of that story can think of this as an AU fanfiction
of that fanfiction. It begins with the same budding relationship between
Edward and Jasper and takes a disturbing twist when a slew of colorful new
characters are added. This story begs the question - how far would their love
have gone had drunken KGB agents became involved? Fasten your seat belts
folks, and enjoy the ride.
Thank you to starfish422 for your permission to borrow your take on Jasper
and Edward as well as certain scenes from your story.
OTT can be found in the Twilight community, Some like it hot.
Some people believe that everything happens for a reason, that everything is planned. Others take a different view, believing that accident and error are the modus operandi of the universe and that everything purely random. Whatever the case is, some pretty horrible things can happen to relatively decent people.
On a dark and sultry night, not too long ago, something happened. Something happened that would make any sane individual scratch their heads and say, "How did that happen?"
On a dark and sultry night, not too long ago . . .
The dance floor was a mass of seething flesh, swaying in sync with thunderous music that shook the very foundation of the club. Topless boys gyrated with the heavy rhythm, their smooth sweaty bodies reflecting the colorful lights of the club.
From his vantage point, Edward Cullen could see everybody. He could see the various freaks, twinks, tops, bottoms, switch hitters and the odd fiend. A few leather daddies mingled here and there, trickling from the leather bar down the street.
Edward was one of those, the beautiful ones. He was one of those boyish guys that frequented places like this nearly every night. He was one of those guys that had taken nearly all of the regular clientele around here home. Edward was after all the unofficial King of the Seattle gay community, an unabashed pleasure seeker.
Tonight they were all there, the dominants, the submissive, the meek ones, the perverts and man sluts. Every last one of them was sweating and pounding out the beat in one long and continuous movement. Edward looked around, scowling slightly. He'd had sex with nearly every one of these guys and the fresh meat looked like crap.
But he wasn't going to go home tonight empty handed, no sir. The shameless pleasure seeker was going to find a nice guy to be on bottom if it took him all night.
There was one fellow on the dance floor that caught Edward's eye. The man was already looking at Edward, licking his lips and grinning. Subtle as a sledgehammer this one was, gave great head, but Edward thought he might have a disease. So it was better to leave this one alone, let somebody else catch the clap.
Entering the dance floor, Edward scanned about for tonight's conquest. His search was fruitless until a mop of curly blond hair caught his eye. The owner of that mop of blond hair stood at the edge of the dance floor, seemingly unaffected by the pounding music. This guy was new, an unknown.
Deciding to hedge his bets, Edward gestured to the new boy. Made it abundantly clear that he was going to grab a drink and then join him. In response the new guy nodded. Edward grabbed his usual beverage, a double Glen Livet, and started to head towards the potential sexual conquest.
Edward told the bartender to hurry it; it wouldn't be long before the blond boy was snapped up by some good looking stud with a chest of curly hair. Chest hair was a sore point for Edward; he hardly had any even though he was twenty six. Oh well, guys here were generally more interested in his penis than his sparse chest hair.
Drink in hand; Edward went over in his mind the best pick-up line for the situation. He could go really classy, "I couldn't help but notice you're too good looking not to head home with me." There was also the casual approach, "What'd you say to you and me heading to my place and we knock some boots?" Another option was the domineering way, "I'm the best you're ever going to get, you should take my offer while it's still open." Also, he could go far left field, "My apartment is being fumigated, we should fuck."
Edward was almost upon the blond, it was time to bring out the big guns, "I want to make you sit on my nine inch cock." Certainly it wasn't the most subtle pickup line but it seemed to do the trick.
Blond boy turned around and grinned. Whoa, Edward was right to go after this fish, he was gorgeous. High cheekbones, slight chin cleft, sparkling, deep set eyes, delicate mouth; the dames and the queer men must be breaking down his door just to get a look at him.
Despite his grin, the dude was extremely calm. Too calm in fact, he was making Edward feel a little vulnerable.
Some twink choose that moment to pester the two men, "Edward, I thought you were coming back to the dance floor?"
The blond guy turned towards the Twink and kindly advised him, "Fuck off." In a flash, the bothersome Twink was gone.
Forgetting the young punk, Blondie looked over Edward appraisingly, "Nine inches, Edward?"
Edward nodded, "Nine inches." There were half dozen guys in the immediate vicinity that could verify his claim about the length of his member. Edward licked his lips a little big, "What should I call you, big boy?"
"Jasper, but to my friends I'm Jazz."
"Alright, Jazz, your place or mine?"
Jasper informed Edward, "My place isn't packed."
They were heading out of the club when Edward said to his new one night stand, "You're new to Seattle." It wasn't a question, he must be new to town because Edward hadn't seen him during all the four years he'd been visiting this club. They just reached Edward's Volvo when things began to go horribly wrong.
They reached the car when Jasper said to Edward, "I'm from Seattle originally, but I haven't lived here in years."
That was fine with Edward; he wanted this guy's ass, not his history, so he didn't press further.
Before they could get into the car however, a voice interrupted them. "I love reloading in a fight; there's nothing like the feel of slamming a long silver bullet into a well greased chamber."
Edward rolled his eyes, he didn't know who the hell this guy was, but he was going to have to learn that Edward Cullen didn't do three-ways.
Turning around, his eyes were greeted with a strange and somewhat frightening sight. There were three of them; two were drunk out of their minds while their leader was sober. The two drunk ones were soulless agents of the KGB, mean as rabid dogs. The other guy looked like some kind of Russian cowboy or a Lee Van Cleef impersonator.
The drunken KGB guys were grinning maliciously, their breathing was heavy. Truly they looked wild, hungry and inhuman.
Their leader, Comrade Cowboy, was a little different. He was sinister but in a subtle and controlled fashion. He was every bit as sly as his white handlebar moustache suggested. "My friends and I are having a night on the town, but we've had no luck with the ladies."
Edward gave them a hard stare, "If you're having bad luck with the ladies your luck is not going to improve in front of a gay bar." He turned around and said to Jasper, "Come on Jazz, let's leave these losers."
The click of a gun cocking stopped Edward and Jasper dead in their tracks. Slowly, the pair turned around to face their possible killer.
The Russian cowboy was quite the sight to behold, with his long duster, well pressed Victorian dress shirt, crimson tie with jeweled clasp and polished shiny six shooter, he was the poster boy for macho, manly, western magnificence. He explained gently to them, "I beg to differ, ladies."
One of the KGB men said to him in a slobbering, hateful voice, "Revolver Ocelot, I've drank so much that I can't see well. Are these ladies you're talking with very beautiful?"
The Russian cowboy, Revolver Ocelot reassured his companions, "Oh Dmitri, these women are so beautiful that you'd have to be sober to completely appreciate them."
At this, Dmitri chuckled darkly, though he didn't get the joke.
The second KBG man, smaller than the first but just as wicked, asked, "I want the more beautiful one, Ocelot. I always do the hardest work, I want the prettier one."
Ocelot chided his friend, "Felix, you'll get your reward. We'll all get something."
Ocelot then noticed the green eyed one's hand start to move towards his cell phone. Raising his pistol ever so slightly, Edward's hand froze into place. Shaking his head, Ocelot tutted, "Uh-uh, I may be a little on in my years, but my eye and my arm as just as fast as ever."
To demonstrate, Ocelot began to spin his gun around on his finger very fast. He spun the gun around his head, under his arm, over his arm, passed it from hand to hand and various other more complex gun moves. Without stopping his elaborate display of gun showmanship, Ocelot asked Jasper, "Do you know what kind of gun this is?"
Jasper was an accountant; knowledge of guns wasn't exactly a prerequisite for his line of work, "Um, a cowboy gun?"
Ocelot was outraged, he increased the speed of his gun spinning, "No, you blazing idiot! This is the Colt Single Action Army Handgun!"
Drunk as they were, Felix and Dmitri both shook their heads and rolled their eyes. Ocelot was never able to shut up, about anything, especially his gun.
Continuing his fancy gun spinning, Ocelot lectured, "Oh yes, I can see you men are in awe as I happen to hold the greatest handgun ever invented. It is also known as the Colt Peacemaker, The Single Action Army, The Colt .45, sometimes The Equalizer or the Colt Peacekeeper."
Ocelot held the gun out in front of him, alternately pointing it in Edward's face and spinning it, "It is a single action revolver containing a revolving cylinder that holds six rounds. Six rounds are all I need to kill anything on this planet that moves."
"What about vampires?" Felix asked.
Ocelot frowned, "What about vampires?"
Felix responded, "If you were facing a vampire, you'd need a wooden stake. I don't think six, or even seven bullets would work."
"Don't move." Ocelot aimed his gun now at Jasper. "Felix, there are no such things are vampires, or faeries, or mummies or Mr. Spock."
Dmitri pulled out his handgun and aimed it at where he thought the two "ladies" were. His weapon weaved around so much it looked like he was trying to write the soviet anthem in the air. "Ocelot, last month I watched a whole season of Sailor Moon. They didn't talk as much or waste as much time as you always do. Let's just fuck these bitches and get it over with."
Ocelot aimed his pistol at Dmitri, who failed to notice this new development, "I do not waste time! I use clever psychology to psych-out my opponents!"
But Dmitri didn't listen to a word that Ocelot said, "And besides, Felix is wrong. You can't kill a vampire with a wooden stake. You need to chop them into little bitty pieces and burn them."
"ENOUGH!" Ocelot screamed loud enough to make every one of them jump. "I would like to get this over with before anybody see-Hi, how are you?"
The twink that Jasper had earlier brushed off was back. He'd come out of the club, hoping to get a glimpse of Edward before he left. He'd been greeted with the rather unusual sight of Edward and Jasper being surrounded by a cowboy and two hammered Russians in business suits.
Out of the corner of his eye, the cowboy saw the Twink and spun around, hiding his gun behind his back, "Hi, how are you?"
The twink, who's name was Lenny, said, "Edward, what's going on?"
Ocelot turned around briefly and snarled at Edward, and then he turned back towards Lenny and grinned broadly, trying to look innocent. Ocelot responded on Edward's behalf, "Everything is fine, boy in pink shirt. We're just goin' to drive Edward home."
Lenny's jaw dropped, "You guys are having a gang bang! Can I come too?" Lenny had been so focused on sex that he'd neglected to notice that one of the Russians carried a gun.
The smile on Ocelot's face was a mile wide now and as fake as anything on God's green earth, "Uh . . . yes! We are having a bang gang and you're welcome to come."
Lenny was ecstatic, "Really? Sweet, I've never been to a gang bang before!"
Unfortunately for poor Lenny, Ocelot had a very devious plan in mind. He pointed over Lenny's shoulder and said, "Look, its Brent Corrigan."
Lenny spun around, "Oh man, where?"
Edward's eyes widened as he realized what Ocelot was going to do.
"Riiiiiight here", Ocelot drawled out his words as though they were oiled. With liquid grace, he brought up his cocked gun and aimed it at the back of Lenny's head. The gun he wielded had a three pound trigger, and Ocelot was putting two and nine tenths pounds on it.
The hammer of the gun fell, striking the percussion cap of the cartridge. The retort of the gun was so loud that it made Edward jump.
Firstly he was aware of his ears ringing; Edward was hesitant to open his eyes. The second thing he was aware of was that Jasper was embracing him and that he was embracing Jasper. The two of them were like a pair of frightened children, while Revolver Ocelot looked like the white haired devil in cowboy gear.
Lenny lay on the ground, dead before he even knew what had happened. His skull was blown open as though it was a fruit ravaged by some hungry animal. As he lay lifeless on the sidewalk, blood flowed in lazy gouts all over the concrete.
As his hearing returned, Edward became aware of a sound that was disturbing beyond measure. Laughter. Felix and Dmitri were both laughing as if Ocelot had told them a very funny joke.
Dmitri guffawed merrily and slapped Felix on the back, "That never grows old. Filthy queer deserved it anyhow."
Felix's laughter was higher and breathier than his partner's, "It's like his head was a grape and Ocelot popped it."
With slow assuredness, Ocelot faced the two clubbers. Jasper shifted his position so that his body was placed between Ocelot and Edward. To say the least, Edward was touched by the gesture, but he only had a brief time to savor the moment.
Ocelot's fair skin and white moustache were peppered with little drops of blood. His eyes were every bit as empty and threatening as the mouth of his gun. He raised his gun at the two captives; smoke rising lazily from the gun's opening. "Unless you want to share in his fate, you'll do whatever I say. You'll swallow what I say to swallow and treat my friend's word as if it were mine." The cowboy's grim visage twisted into a half grin, "Do we have an understanding?"
A barely perceptible nod from the frightened men told Ocelot what he wanted to hear. "And if you play your cards right, you might even enjoy this."
"Let's steal their car", Felix gurgled.
Ocelot agreed, "Yes, let's borrow these ladies car. Drive us out of here before anybody sees the body."
With much noise but no words spoken, Edward, Jasper, Felix, Dmitri and Ocelot all piled into Edward's Volvo.
Jasper rode shotgun while Edward drove. Ocelot and companions rode in the back, ignoring the seatbelts as they did. Dmitri ran his hand through Jasper's hair, but the blond did not dare complain. Both of the KGB men had their pistols withdrawn now, at any moment the end might come.
Jasper's revulsion was clear on his face, Dmitri's hand felt as though he'd run them through a bucket of steaming intestines. This in fact was not very far from the truth.
Ocelot leaned back in his seat, one boot propped up next to Edward's ear. He was simultaneously enjoying the comfort of European engineering and disdaining it. "You know, this car is a lot like you, boy. It's weak and it's overly flashy. Me, I prefer my cars either American or Soviet. Now those people know how to build cars powerful, not just flamboyant."
Ocelot was too busy in his monologue to notice that Edward was sending out a text message with one hand while holding the steering wheel with the other.
Thank you for reading, this is only the first chapter of my story, stay tuned for more. Originally this was going to be a oneshot, but it just grew too big. Thanks for reading, remember to review me. Next chapter, we get to meet some good old fashioned bar fighters.
Ta
Master of the Boot
