A/N: Set during the Regime, a little tête-à-tête between Reiche Planchette and Leonardo Fortunato (two employees of Nicolae's during this period with rather similar job descriptions.) If you haven't read the prequels go out and do so, verily, for they are lovely. No spoilers here. I'm completely enamoured of Reiche so I thought I'd write something nice for him, while being able to abuse darling Leon at the same time.
I don't own Left Behind, or their characters or anything else of Tim and Jerry's. I am merely borrowing their toys. (And/Or helpfully including the little bits they so carelessly left out of the series when they were publishing. Bad Tim and Jerry!) Give me feedback and I will do a little happy dance all 'cos of you. If you flame I'm just gonna assume you love me so much it's gone back round to hate again.
Warnings: I don't want to turn anyone blind. So please be aware that this is slash. And pretty pwp-ish. That's two guys engaging in the kind of stuff that would warrant an M rating. No fluff or romance either. If you know you won't like that, please don't read. You have the power.
Hosannas in Extremis
- - -
Leon was caught completely off guard.
The sound of a door opened and shutting in the background, the hurried footsteps echoing up the otherwise empty corridor, his name being growled like a curse under someone's breath. He didn't precisely notice any of these things.
At one moment he'd been idly strolling through the hall, head caught in pipe dreams about the future (dreams full of fame, glory and…well, Nicolae). And the next he found his shoulders being gripped roughly from behind and he was being dragged, feet stumbling over each other, to one side.
"Wha-"
"Shut. Up." A voice at his ear hissed. Then momentarily released him, as a door next to them was yanked open so hard it banged back against its hinges. "Get in."
Leon whirled around, completely ready to be filled with righteous indignation and fury at whomever it was, who'd had the nerve to manhandle him like that.
But it was Reiche.
The words died in Leon's mouth, the hand he'd raised froze in position, and then fell back to his side. Planchette had a smile on his face that was anything but amused. An ugly smirk twisting his features, and ordinarily dark eyes turned almost pitch black with…anger? Hate? And something else that stopped Leon from matching the anger and just pushing past him.
"Get in Leon." Planchette repeated.
He didn't wait for Leon, still frozen like he was caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, to move. So all Fortunato got was the blurred sensation of first being grabbed again, and then spun. Pushed face first into the impossibly dark interior of whatever the door led to.
Leon's hands came up automatically, but too late to stop him being winded by an ill placed shelf that hit him right in the stomach. His short, sharp sound of protest was muffled as Reiche pulled the door shut behind them, and the world plunged into darkness.
A caretaker's closet of some kind. Tiny, cramped and packed with a whole host of objects from the clatter and rattling sounds that had been produced when Fortunato collided with the shelves in front of him. Even more cramped now thanks to its two new additions. Leon couldn't quite feel Reiche, but he could sense the other man behind him, and he was about to twist around when Planchette's hand gripped his neck.
"Don't even think about moving."
Leon gritted his teeth, pressed even further forward he had to turn his head to stop his nose being broken on a large metal…something. Eyes adjusting now, he could barely make out some dim shapes in the gloom.
"You've been avoiding me Leon." Reiche whispered viciously against his left ear. "I think Nicolae is considering letting me go altogether. Is that what you're waiting for?"
Leon took a deep breath. "I don't know what you're talking about Reiche."
The pressure against his neck increased. "Don't say my name in that patronising way you little curvar. I've been looking for you for three days and you know it. It's a hell of a coincidence I found you now."
"What?" Leon giggled a little, nervously, unable to stop himself. "You're being paranoid."
A complete and utter lie. How could he not be aware that Reiche had been looking for him? It had been very awkward making sure that their paths didn't cross. The only help being that Planchette was right, he had been falling out of favour with Carpathia lately.
Reiche released his neck suddenly, but the feeling of freedom was short lived. Planchette's hands curled around his upper arms and then the older man was pressed, full body against him. Pinning him against the row of shelves like a butterfly about to be framed.
"You still owe me Fortunato." Planchette said, biting the words out. "You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me."
Leon squirmed against the uncomfortable pressure of each thin wooden ledge digging into his thighs, stomach, and chest. His movements completely failed at elevating any of his discomfort. They did, however, manage to turn Reiche's breathing that little more heavy.
"I already…the interview. It was a one time deal." He falteringly pointed out as Planchette sighed impatiently, hungrily, against the nape of his neck.
"Oh that." Reiche laughed shortly, "Such a small thing for what has turned out to be such a prize for you."
The grip on one of his arms lessened and Planchette's hand travelled down to Leon's waist, fussing at his shirt in a victorious effort to untuck it out of Fortunato's trousers.
"I have to hand it to you Leon. You were better then any of the boys you can buy in Bucharest." Planchette continued as his hand slipped under the now dishevelled shirt and Leon blushed furiously. "Your tongue, my Lord! Now are you just naturally talented or was there much practice involved?"
"Don't." Fortunato whimpered, barely managed that as Reiche's hand continued to slide roughly up his skin. Calloused fingertips leaving a trail of goose pimples in their wake.
"I don't see you fighting too hard."
Planchette's tongue darted out to trace the edge of Leon's ear, his fingers moving up Fortunato's ribcage, mapping skin. And chewing on his lip, Leon managed not to make a sound, though his legs felt like they had turned to water.
"If you'd let me go." He managed to spit out over teeth that seemed rebelliously inclined to chatter, "I'd leave."
Reiche shook his head. "I find that hard to believe."
"Then you're delusional." His retort turning into a whine on the last syllable as Planchette bit down, hard, on the slice of flesh exposed between his shirt collar and ear. Leon shut his eyes tight, fingers curling, trying to force out his next words in a hurry. "I would have done anything for a chance to be introduced to Nicolae. That's all."
"Mmm, I've seen the way you look at him. You must be pretty desperate by now." Reiche's voice was thick with contempt and lust. "Seeing as how eager you are to get on your knees. Servant nature?"
Leon felt the last of his resistance drain out of him at the command in Planchette's voice and the steel grip in his hands. Hands that were now pulling at his belt with as much vigour as Reiche himself was pushing against him.
"No. You're just a slut Leonardo. Dress it up however you like. Which I suppose is what he wants. Though maybe not in all the same ways that you do. Upset he hasn't pushed you up against a wall already and fucked your little brains out? Maybe I can help."
Something fell from one of the top shelves, barely missing them both, as Leon moaned and tried to push off one of the shelves. Not sure himself whether he was trying to escape from Reiche or just feel more of the man against him.
"You're not Nicolae." Leon gasped, thinking aloud more then anything else, not realizing how it would sound to Planchette even as he said it.
Reiche halted. Just as he'd finally managed to manoeuvre the belt free of its buckle, do away with the buttons, and yank Fortunato's trouser down to around his ankles. Leon swallowed nervously, an anticipatory thrill cut short running up his spine.
"Nicolae should be working for me! Instead of…" Reiche stopped, growled and shoved a leg in-between Leon's thighs. "It's not Nicolae's name you'll be calling soon."
Planchette seemed to have an overwhelming need to talk. There had been more words in the last few minutes then he'd exchanged with Leon in the last few weeks.
"Are you thinking of him?"
His tone was angry, but with a strange touch of hopefulness. Like in possessing Leon's body he'd be able to take those thoughts too. Planchette had taken hold of his hips, hands pressing greedily to flesh with a callous zeal that made Leon glad his skin didn't show bruises easily. And a violence that made his heart flutter a little.
Even back at the interview, after one meaningful little glance, when he'd gotten on his knees and Planchette had fucked his mouth. It had been gentler then this. Less talking too.
Leon tried to shake his head, forgetting the awkward angle he was being held at. "I'm thinking of you."
The fact that this just happened to be the truth was something of a coincidence.
"I am sure." Replied Reiche, scathing, "You're our little people pleaser."
From Planchette's mouth the words sounded dirty, echoes of what he really meant by them, clear as day. As obvious a fact to Leon as the warm body pressed against him, or the smell of old polish he wanted to blame this light-headedness on. They made him shiver, but he could have distanced himself from the scene. Distanced himself from that someone behind him. Even if that someone happened to be so hard it seemed like they might just screw you right through the trousers prickling at your bare skin.
"You won't last Leon. He will use you up and throw you away like every other piece of trash around here."
"Like you?" Fortunato murmured.
Leon could hear Reiche's shocked, whistling inhalation of breath at his words. The kind of sound someone makes when they've been punched in the stomach, winded.
Leonardo continued. "Do you know what Nicolae would do if I spoke to him like that? I think you do Reiche, I think you'd kn-"
"Shut up."
Reiche cut him off furiously, one hand finding a fistful of Leon's hair and pulling his head back. His other hand made a predictable beeline around Leon's waist and then…stopped, laying his palm flat over Leon's navel. Leon swallowed with difficulty, his neck aching.
"Sorry." Fortunato managed to whine. It came out hoarsely, hissed and desperate.
Reiche laughed quietly near his ear, "Now you don't mean that do you?"
He traced his fingertips slowly across Leon's stomach, edging slightly lower at every pass. The skin jumping under his fingers as Leonardo trembled, unable to help it. Just as when the hand in his hair twisted cruelly Leon couldn't stop the whimper from escaping lips.
"But you do like this." Said Planchette, his hand finally falling low enough to grip the unmistakeable evidence that Leon probably more then just 'liked' it. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"
Leonardo couldn't nod, but he couldn't speak either. He wouldn't be able to stand hearing the bare need in his voice. Not from Reiche Planchette's touch. Why wouldn't the man just do it? Hurry up and use him, hard, like he said. Make it quick and violent and selfish.
"Say something Leonardo." Reiche's hand left him, and then returned just as quickly. Slapping him harshly on the top of his thigh. "Come on darling."
Leon groaned, "What do you want me to say?"
"Take a guess. Or I could just leave you in here to take care of yourself. You better get used to that after all. Nicolae doesn't want you, but he won't share. Believe me."
Fortunato tried to banish that thought from his mind, but it wasn't too difficult. Not with Reiche tormenting him, running obscenely delicate fingers over places that made Leon's knees threaten to buckle. Delicate for now, the unforgiving snarl that echoed just behind all of Planchette's words promised that delicacy would soon be forsaken.
"I need you Reiche," he hesitated, forcing himself to continue before Planchette thought of some unpleasant way to encourage him. "I want you to…"
"Say it."
Leon screwed his eyes shut and sighed, "Fuck me."
Reiche released his grip on Fortunato's hair. Leon letting his head fall forward to rest on the shelf, but it was a rest that was short lived. Planchette tugged at his shoulder and Leon turned pliantly, all fight gone. Even the fight to encourage Reiche to use him callously, to push him into taking control, had dissolved into a dizzy kind of surrender. The light seeping in from under the doorway allowed him to see the look on Planchette's face and his eyes instinctively hit the floor.
You respect someone who looks at you like that. Every impulse in Leon's body was hard wired to bow and scrape to dominance, and somehow in here, somewhere along the line, Reiche had become worth that deference. It was the close dark little world of the cupboard, and his body's crying need to be abused and the knowledge that he belonged to Nicolae now, and yet Nicolae would probably never give him a second glance
Not in the way Reiche was looking at him, Leon folded his hands in front of him meekly and did one of the things that he did best. Await orders. Reiche placed a hand on Fortunato's shoulder and applied the slightest of firm, insistent pressure. Leon didn't need any further instruction then that.
He slid down to his knees with the kind of practised grace he more usually lacked.
"Think," Reiche intoned sanctimoniously, the indifference in his voice betrayed only by the slightest waver. "This is more for your benefit then mine. You might want to be thorough."
Fortunato dug his tongue into the pleat of Planchette's trousers, straightening out the zipper, and his eyes flickered momentarily upwards at the frustrated little growl that came from above him. Leon almost smiled as his gaze darted to the side where he could see Reiche's hands curling into fists. He bit on the zip and reached up for a shirt button, opening the lowest one and then turning his head and dipping lower to the unmistakeable sound of a fly dropping.
As Fortunato placed his hand inside, a voice in the back of his head noted that Reiche dressed to the left, but it was an almost white noised kind of babbling. A dazed thought as his heart beat faster and faster, his skin feeling white-hot. Sickeningly aroused. Leon's other hand was remarkably steady as it reached up to unbutton Planchette's shirt as far as he could without picking himself up from the ground.
"Do you know how obvious it is that you have this in you Leon?" Reiche chuckled, putting one hand out to a shelf to steady himself. "Even when you're scurrying about on official business it's clear where you should be. Where you'd rather be."
He looked down at Leon, trying to keep everything but impatience out of his expression, watching as Fortunato finished fiddling with the clasp on his slacks, getting it open, and then helping them to drop down from his waist. Leon couldn't see perfectly in the gloom, but he could feel the angles of Reiche's body. Flat stomach and pelvic bones. He ran his tongue down one side of the indent, then just under the waistband of Planchette's boxers. Slowly, and up the other side.
Leon hooked his thumbs into Reiche's boxer hem, planting kisses along his flesh as he started to pull them down.
Reiche stopped him, hand in his hair again. Not pulling, but warning. "If it's for your benefit Leon…"
"Please." Fortunato didn't need to think; he looked up at Planchette with large eyes and licked his lips. "Please Reiche, can I?"
Planchette didn't even deign to answer him, just smirked, his face twisting contemptuously and waved a dismissive hand of assent. Leon sighed blissfully. He finished removing Reiche's underwear, pulling them down to follow in the path of his trousers. He sighed again, this time with another note, almost keening, at the sight in front of him.
As Leon placed one hand on Reiche's hip, the other stole down between his own legs, his body begging for some kind of attention. Half a second before a cruel yank on his hair stopped him.
"Don't you dare even think about touching yourself." Reiche whispered coldly.
Somehow Leon forced his hand away. And then he could feel Planchette's gaze, heavy, as he went down on him. Still breathing quickly through his mouth at this point. He didn't need to look to know Reiche was half disgusted and half turned on by the spectacle. The fervent enthusiasm with which he took to his task, something that someone like Reiche would always sneer at. Leon closed his eyes and his mouth at roughly the same time, the whimpers as Planchette's hands clenched in his hair, muffled.
Reiche himself was mostly managing to keep quiet. Leon pulled back, to be able to look at him. Reiche wasn't biting his lip or swearing silently under his breath, but Leon could see it was taking him an effort not to do those things. He licked in broad strokes, sloppily, because that was the point after all. Until Reiche tugged his mouth away and motioned for him to stand up.
"Take off your shirt."
Leon obeyed hurriedly, he didn't want to appear eager, but he was. Eager and desperate and his fingers somehow knew not to shake too much, because this was important. He shrugged the shirt off, it landing in the dark somewhere. Planchette smiled widely. Eyes bright in the gloom, he traced up Leon's front with an indifferent index finger…circling around his chest.
Reiche breathed deeply, "Turn round."
Leonardo just about managed to do so before Planchette shoved him forwards. At least this time he was ready for the shelves. What he wasn't ready for was Reiche. Reiche's tongue, licking his spine from bottom to top in short overlapping strokes, placing his hands on Leon's shoulders to keep him from moving.
From someone else it might have been a sweet gesture, something gentle and considerate. With Planchette it felt animalistic. Proprietary, like he was staking claim. The thought, as much as the touch, made Leon moan unabashedly.
"You like this? Being debased like this?" Reiche's words come in a low ardent whisper at Leon's neck, "Well I'm nothing if not obliging...I know what you want from me."
The words made Leon squirm, a hot flush starting nowhere and spreading all over. Desire cutting through him like a razorblade and just as wicked, called into being by Reiche's voice. He was close to begging now. Pleading with Planchette…not for mercy. Rather a prayer to cast any thoughts of mercy away and just do this. With his hands busy gripping a shelf near head height, more then necessary to stop horizontal bruises that would no doubt last for weeks, he was helpless to Reiche's whims.
"It's not about ambition," said Planchette, "Working your way up on your knees. On your stomach. Your back. Against a wall. That, maybe, I could understand."
Each sentence was punctuated by some wanton abandoned noise of pleasure thieved from Leon's throat as Reiche nipped bites down his neck, his shoulder. Speaking into his skin before letting his teeth score Leon's flushed flesh, drawing a particularly heated cry when they found the already bruised mark there. Not just the touches, Reiche's accent playing hotly over the words was stronger then Nicolae's but Leon could almost imagine…
"It's not this either."
Planchette continued and cut Fortunato's thoughts off as his hand fall between Leon's legs. Kissing the spots he'd so recently been worrying at, smoothing over sensitive blushes of pink with his tongue.
Leon bucked sharply up into Reiche's grip, breath coming out in sighs, his legs spreading themselves impulsively. Soft, gentle touches that had Leon nearly weeping when Planchette drew his hand away and removed his lips from Fortunato's neck.
"No. Your sort is motivated by this part."
Leon had not been expecting it, no breath to even gasp as Reiche pressed into him. Hard, too fast, not slick enough. No way near ready enough, that was obvious, and still Planchette did it. Brutally, all the way in one sadistic stroke. Leonardo's breath came back to him in ragged gasps, as Reiche didn't wait one second before pulling out slowly and then slamming back, harder then before.
The pain was too much…but not enough for Leon to want it to stop. He could take it faster, fiercer then this. Reiche's hands fastened implacably around his wrists. Forcing himself flush against the younger man. The shelves rattled and Leon's arms ached from instinctively trying to absorb the worst of the impact, but Reiche was supremely unconcerned.
"Well, aren't you going to thank me?" He asked breathlessly.
Lost in the moment, eyes half shut, the words slipped out of Leon's mouth between pants of breath without a thought.
"Thank you Nicolae."
Leon's voice was so low, whisper quality. Weighed down by lust and broken by pain and maybe, hopefully, soundless over the sounds of their laboured breathing. He was pressed hard against the contents of the shelf, sure that Planchette must have noticed the slip. Maybe he did, but then he was fucking him harder, hissing "Bitch," in Leon's ear and it didn't matter.
Fortunato gave an appreciative little moan that made Planchette want to gag him. Or maybe drag Tristan in here, give Leon some other way to occupy his mouth, airtight, the slut wouldn't make as much noise then.
This was what Leon wanted. The lovely feeling of being filled, used, a prop for someone else's pleasure. His legs felt weak, and he might have fallen if Reiche hadn't been forcing his wrists to the shelf, bearing him up with each unrelenting thrust.
Finally one of Planchette's hands slipped down from Leon's wrists and curled around his waist. To stroke him roughly in nothing like rhythm. And anyone passing outside would be bound to hear them now. Planchette growling like a feral animal and Leon crying out. To Reiche. The name escaping his lips in a sharp sounding yelp. The kind of name that can be forced out over a throat unwilling to do much more then moan. And beg.
Ask for it harder. And quicker. And, "thank you, thank you, god yes!"
"Oh you fucking sweet little whore."
Reiche snarled, hate laced through every syllable, and Leon came. Planchette following as Fortunato tensed, fingers curling and vision blurring as his eyes flickered shut, slumping against the shelves.
There was a heavy moment as the air in the closet seemed to simmer down from boiling to a humid, aftermath atmosphere. Planchette pulling away from Leon, still out of breath. And as he did so Fortunato turned around, a little unsteadily, and grabbed his hand.
He didn't take his eyes away from Reiche, eyes still clouded, dark and liquid, and bent his head slightly. Keeping that gaze as he languidly licked away the sticky results of Planchette's strokes. A keen and thorough tongue turned keener by the stunned expression on Reiche's face. He swallowed and then smiled prettily up at Planchette.
"Maybe I can avoid you again sometime?"