Gratitude, In Volts
Romance/General
Rated M for Yaoi, Dubious Consent and Sexual Acts of an Explicit Nature.
Please note that this only follows the series up to about halfway. The Characters are 17 or 18 in this Fic, and I do not own Static, although my gym lockers and sore fingers beg to differ.
SLASH. PWP. One-Shot. Virgil and Richie must make a deal with Hotstreak in order for him to keep his mouth shut about their identities. Turns out the blackmail was just the shove they needed in order to fall.
-
-
-
Fire is never a gentle Master. -Proverb
-
-
-
"Come on, Virgil Hawkins, don't be shy, you know you want to see it."
Virgil's eyes were still averted, because he couldn't believe they were here, like this, how low and husky that voice was to his ears--God, almost as hot as the fire it's owner produced. It made him shiver, tension curling in his shoulders, because Richie….Gods, Richie…
What, in fact, Richie was, was spread out on the Virgil's bed, naked and panting from several bruising hot kisses delivered from the resident villain. Virgil swallowed thickly, audibly, and Richie looked…God, with his blond hair mussed and his cheeks flushed…he looked--Oh, Virgil couldn't think of that. He really couldn't, because he was there, large tanned hands running up the inside of slender, pale, creamy thighs, he could see the scar from the gunshot wound, and that mouth leaned in and mouthed it. There was a noise from those lips, a beautiful noise, surprised and quiet and --Damn it.
It made Virgil's mouth water.
Because God in Heaven, Richie looked so--just--
"Delectable," purred the man that resided between Richie's thighs, kneeling on the floor and running his hands from his hips to his toes. "Don't you think, Virgil? C'mon…look at him, trembling and blushing and hard for me, from just kisses…"
Virgil shuddered, and it made the other boy laugh.
"Look." That was an order, and…Virgil was not in control of the situation. He looked, chocolate eyes drifting over to the pretty, flushed skin and the vibrant red hair so close and--
Oh.
Oh God.
His eyes widened, because Richie was suddenly in the other teen's mouth, that back arching like a cat, fingers clutching at the covers because it was good, and Virgil could only imagine the heat of that mouth. Hands were holding down his hips and long legs were straining against them and he was fighting for more, Richie was tossing his head back and almost screaming at the sudden contact. It made Virgil's eyes burn, to watch this and not….stop it. Join in. Anything. Just…Gods--
"H--Hotstreak, oh, oh Gods, wait--Oh wait, don't th-that's Ngah!! Ah!" That was Richie's voice, gasping and crying out and begging, and there was a tent in the front of Virgil's jeans because--it was hot, it was making him hot, and just--
"Hotstreak--" He muttered, but it was choked off when Francis drew in and pulled with his mouth and Richie all but had a seizure on the bed and just--Gods, it looked like the suction would kill him, gasping and crying out on the bed and he'd never thought Richie would be so responsive--
No, he'd never thought of it before, he hadn't. This was…Damn it all, this was gorgeous, pure art as he writhed on the bed and shouted and Hotstreak's grip on his hips grew bruising as he moved, because he couldn't stop moving could he? He couldn't control it, and the sight of the super genius mind surrendering to pleasure was….enthralling…
"HAhhn--wait--oh, that--hah--it's hot, I c--can't--gnAH!" Richie cried, head tossing from side to side, the muscles in his stomach quivering and his glasses knocked crookedly and he looked…debauched, there, being pleasured, and Virgil hadn't even dreamed of this, could have never, just…God, was it wrong, that he didn't want Hotstreak to stop? That some part of him was happy that the fiery Bang Baby had figured out their identity and blackmailed them into participating in--in this? "AH--V--Virgil, please--oh GOD--! Ngah--AaHAH, it's too much, I can't--Virgilohgodmakeitstop!"
Virgil wanted to climb onto the bed and taste those screams. Part of him told himself that was selfish, and the other part told him it was only natural because --Holy God, those words that were barely coherent, that made pleasure curl through his hips and he took a step forward because he wanted so badly…
But Hotstreak had said --one time, to do whatever he said and he'd told him to look. and nothing else, but God, Richie was screaming. He was begging and clutching at the covers, almost kicking because it was--it was too much and Virgil had never seen something more enchanting. He wanted to get close, hover right above that face and stroke his cheek and assure him it was fine, it was good and he could because he wanted to see the look on his face when he exploded and dove into pure oblivion.
Those hands were smooth, too smooth and somehow rough as he held down Richie's straining hips, and Virgil wanted him to let go, to let him move because….God, he wanted to be in Hotstreak's place, and it hit him every bit as hard as F-stop had that day in the alley, and since with his powers. It almost made him stumble, with the force he understood it, because he--God, he loved Richie. He actually…loved the boy, and he'd always known that but--he wanted him, he didn't want Hotstreak to be the one touching him. He wanted to be the first, and he knew he would be his the first, he knew…
He just didn't know how long he'd wanted it for.
It was a burden to think that he could have wanted this for years, because if Richie--Gods, he could have kissed those lips first. Richie was unraveling under the pressure of the redhead's mouth and at least he was being gentle but it wasn't fair.
Virgil was jealous. It burned within him as strongly as any electricity, and this time he stepped forward again and again, and again, until his knees hit the bed. His shirt was off, it had been since the beginning, since they'd walked into the empty house and Hotstreak had shoved him against the wall and made him whimper lowly with just hands on his chest and kisses to his collar.
"To prove even Static is susceptible to the pleasures fire can give," Francis had said against his neck, as Virgil had slumped against the wall, biting his bottom lip and panting. "Next time we fight out there in the real world, remember that."
And then they'd gone upstairs.
"Ah--NGH--Hah--NAH--Hot--stUAH! Oh--Oh god, it's hot, too good, it hot! Ngah--AH!"
Virgil was closer now, eyes flickering down to Hotstreak--his eyes were open, a strange color that was a brown so light they were almost gold, flickering in a smirking fashion that his lips were too busy to form.
He did not protest Virgil's movement, even seemed amused by it, eager to see what the hero would do because Richie was still screaming, words protesting in a way his mind could no longer manifest. Because even as he begged for it to stop he was desperately trying to roll forward with his hips, bucking his hips and his back arched into a deep, elegant bow, and--
--and Virgil was on the bed in a second, his mouth dry, his eyes wide, and his hand caught that arch and kept it there, leaning forward and looking at him.
"HhahNAH!"
Richie eyes shock open in surprise, choking on a moan and it was--God, Virgil was right there, face to face, and he could see the logic in that brilliant mind breaking, collapsing beneath the ecstasy he was surely feeling as the older boy's mouth continued to work. Virgil reached and cupped his face, looking into those blue eyes and taking his glasses off so they wouldn't get broken and just…
God, his hands, Richie was grabbing at him now, one hand clutching at his shoulder and the other at his back, short defined nails digging at his skin and making him burn.
"R…Richie…" He murmured, because he was so close as he was gasping and shouting out right there, and Virgil was twisted slightly over his body while Hotstreak claimed the lower half. "I can't…you're so…I just…"
"HAH! V-Virgil, I can't, please--I'm--hahh-ngah--AH--I'm gonna--wait, ngah--oh!!"
"Are…are you close?" He was swallowing hard, because right now he was a comforting friend Richie was reaching out for and just--it had been the Super-Geek himself who'd told him to go along with it--He was supposed to be his friend, he wasn't supposed to want to take that mouth and trap those screams between them because he didn't want to share them with the redhead below.
He should have wanted to kick the man out because he was a criminal.
Not because Virgil wished to be in his place.
It tore at his conscious, but those cries tore at his groin, hot and invasive and crawling into his mind as he watched him fall apart. The beautiful, genius mind nothing more than begging, pleading--reduced to an incoherency that dug at Virgil's self control and he was only a boy, and Hotstreak's eyes were hot and beautiful and glaring a hole in his head. Virgil couldn't see him but he knew, could almost hear the voice in his head as though his power were mind reading and not electro magnetism Richie was--
Screaming.
"HAH! Oh God, wait, wait--It's--HN! I'm--! It's too--Virgil!"
His
"Please ohgodIcan't--HAH! His mouth--It's--NGAH! Virgil--HnahAHH!!"
Name--
"NGHMN!"Virgil's mouth was on his and those eyes, blue and glazed with lust were wide because he was just supposed to be his best friend, he wasn't supposed to want him so, wasn't supposed to yearn for this sort of contact with him. Knuckle knocking and guy-hugs had been the extent of their touches from then and it was sudden and it was all Hotstreak's fault, his stupid mouth, in more ways than one.
God, Virgil was taking those sweet lips and his hand was still on the small of his back and Richie was still moving under him and nothing had changed except their relationship and--"Nh--GH"
Those noises didn't stop, that was for sure, and it made him dizzy because his breath and hot in his mouth and wide open and it--really wasn't his fault (in the way one usually blamed things without actually believing it themselves) that his tongue flicked in to taste. It was divine, soft and slick and Richie was still squirming and clutching at him, Virgil's eyes closing somewhere in the midst and just--God, Richie was so close, he was holding back as much as he could manage…Richie had always had better self control than him, but it seemed that this area of activity contradicted that trait.
Because Richie was coming, and Hotstreak's fingers raked down his thighs as he took it in, Virgil could hear the slick sound of him swallowing, in another universe. Separate from this one, that consisted only his lips on the blonde's, gentle and caring but a passion driving it with a fire as vibrant as the man that didn't exist there. He felt his muscles tense, seizing into place as rose off the bed in almost a violent arch, dark hands tightening their grip on the small of his back, feeling every muscle clench against him as Richie gave into the ecstasy all at once.
And God, that scream. A scream that echoed throughout Virgil's body as surely as it did Richie's, he caught it in his mouth as that jaw slacked and those nail made stripes down his back. Just like that, only moments later, he fell back to the bed seemingly boneless in Virgil's arm's, far away was the sound of soft panting to prove Francis had released the member from his hold. His hand slid back to his face and up to his hair, running through the yellow locks which were damp with perspiration and continued to kiss him because he wasn't stopping him, Richie wasn't…was he…kissing…back…?
"Ain't you two cute," came the voice from behind, not genuine, but not snide either. Virgil nearly groaned, reluctantly pulling himself away from those lips and letting his eyes slide open.
There was a moment of contact, dark rich brown and a blue as deep as a thousand clear skies.
And then-- "As touching as this is…I wanna move onto round two."
Virgil moved his eyes away from Richie and shifted a bit, to look at the redhead, dreads slightly out of place as he sat up. He swallowed slightly and licked his lips, light eyes lit as the pyrokenetic teen took them both in. Virgil didn't dare to imagine what he looked like, mouth swollen and blushing, quite erect between the shield of his jeans.
He didn't speak, they'd decided on that beforehand, they would do this, this once, do what he said but they wouldn't participate in a conversation with him. Despite the fact that he'd cleaned up his act somewhat, getting away from Ebon and the Breed, he was still not a model citizen. And the things that he'd done in the past were not repented for yet, and as Static and Gear they couldn't interact with him in even a semi-civil fashion; this interaction, it was in exchange for his silence.
Hotstreak wanted them. It was a price to pay for the safety of Virgil and Richie's family and friends.
"Recover quick, Foley, and then turn on your stomach," Hotstreak hissed, and Virgil could see that he was quite hard himself, and he halfway didn't blame him because those noises--No, he wouldn't sympathize with him, not even in this. "Hawkins, you got Vaseline or somethin'?"
He felt more than saw Richie tense and when he looked, the other was clenching his eyes shut, a tension coursing through him that surprised Virgil, because it had been he who had talked him into accepting this, that there was no other way. Richie's logical speech had convinced him, because Hotstreak would tell everyone, every super villain in Dakota, the country, ones much more dangerous than a punk who they could beat with their eyes closed…
But….Wait.
Turn over. Vaseline. That--Gods, of course, Richie was smart, he'd known it was coming and on some level Virgil had too, ready to give in over when it was ask from whichever one of them Hotstreak chose and…Gods. When they'd agreed, they hadn't known it was this. And when he'd agreed, Virgil hadn't realized, he hadn't known…how much he wanted it to be him. Bile rose into his throat, the thought of Richie being taken for the first time by Hotstreak, who didn't care about them at all, who never gave them the time of day unless it was to beat in their faces.
Why Richie? Why--he wouldn't let him…he wanted for himself, he wanted to protect him because he knew it would hurt , he wanted Hotstreak to go away so he could erase the memory of his mouth. He wouldn't let him, not like that, not by him, he just couldn't….
No. Way.
"No."
It was out of his mouth, hard and cool, fists clenching, their promise of silence broken, the memory of Richie's near-hidden forlorn look when he'd swallowed and said "If he wants--we really have no other choice than to give it to him…As much as I would have liked to been with someone who, y'know, loved me or something….Never mind. I'm being sappy, huh, V? Let's go." He'd averted his eyes and walked ahead of him slightly the rest of the way to their house.
"Excuse me?" Hotstreak narrowed his eyes and demanded, a sharpness to them now, threatening--if you refuse…
He heard Richie begin to protest, softly, with a tone of logic to it that made the darker boy cringe, "Virgil, I have to--"
"No, you don't," He cut him off quickly, opening his eyes once more and setting them on Hotstreak because…surely, Hotstreak didn't have a preference. "Not….I mean, not…to you. Do it to me instead, I…"
"Wait---what?" Richie was sitting up, grabbing Virgil's shoulder and making him look at him, "What are you doing? He asked me, you shouldn't….are you trying to be heroic again? Man, V, just--is it really that different whether it's you or me?"
"I….it's okay, bro."
"Don't--no! V, why are you--"
"Please!…I just…" He bit his lip and averted his eyes, closing his eyes, "I don't want him to be your first, Richie, you…you really do deserve to lose it to someone who loves you…"
"But…" Dark red on those cheeks and Virgil wanted to hold him, because he'd rather do this than have Richie soiled…He wouldn't be losing his virginity to Francis. Of course, he'd never been with a man, but during the duration of his short relationship with Daisy they'd tried it, and…Gods. He really did want to be his first and just--why did he realize it now, why when they were eighteen and fresh out of high school, blackmailed by a gang member and not earlier when they were kids had could have been together without all the seriousness that this situation entailed….
He hadn't even thought if Richie didn't want him, but…he'd kissed back…
"Hm," Francis grunted, cocking and eyebrow and smirking widely, "I was rather hoping you'd say that."
It was then that Virgil understood the logic in his plan, go after Richie, the one without the offensive powers, nothing that could hurt Hotstreak when his clothes were off. Virgil however, was Static, if he wasn't completely willing, he'd hurt Francis, unless--
--unless he offered it to him.
It made Virgil scowl but it was kissed off of him by heated lips and damn him, but he was good at it, terrific at it and it took his breath away. At least for the moment it lasted, because Hotstreak was away again in a second and off out of the room, giving Virgil a moment to breath. He closed his eyes, drifting over to Richie slightly, who had moved to sit up as well, looking into his lap.
"I--" Virgil began, but Richie cut him off.
"Thank you."
Virgil's cheeks burned, and Richie was far from his usual pale pallor as well, ears and face beet red , looking up him and running a hand through his mussed blond hair.
"Better me than you."
"Why?" And Richie looked him in the eyes, so intensely Virgil was unsure if he was asking why he'd done this…or why he'd kissed him.
Virgil opened his mouth, but the answer choked in his throat, and that was just as well, for Hotstreak was back with lotion, throwing it from one hand to the other and standing at the foot of the bed, his grin wide as though he'd captured a precious treasure.
"On your stomach, Static," He paused, and then laughed, shaking his head and adding, almost playfully, "Can't tell you how many times I've dreamed of saying that to you…"
Virgil swallowed, the lotion glaring at him as thought it were an living being, or a ghost, ominous and foreboding and cold. He ripped his dark eyes away and Richie began to scoot over but Virgil put a hand on his chest, looking up at him with a somewhat pleading glance, and Richie guess the meaning of it, stilling his motion with a nod. With that, Virgil was shifting onto his stomach, lying directly on the paler figure, shuddering because he shouldn't turn his back on an enemy…
Hadn't Batman taught him that?
He pushed that from his mind--he doubted there was anything about this situation Batman would approve of. The raven haired boy leaned against him, wrapping his arms around the other in a hug and looking at him for a moment, but when he heard the familiar sound of lotion being squirted out, he shut his eyes and buried his face in that neck. He didn't think that was the best idea, because he wanted to taste him almost immediately, he'd had his lips, but now…what of his skin?
Then, he felt body heat from above and knew the other was crouched on all fours over his body and he tried not to shake, because…he wasn't scared. He wasn't. For God's sake, maybe, but at least he had Richie there and he was holding him in return, hands covering the places they'd gripped during his own bout of sensational torture.
One hand, coiled with restrained heat, drew from the side of his rib cage and down over his hip, and it made the darker superhero shudder. It came around his hips and tugged up, up, until Virgil was on his knees, one resting on either side of Richie's legs. His face was still against the pale neck, and he felt Richie gasp lowly as he pressed himself into the crook deeper, although it gave him the embarrassing position of being bent up in the air, ass high and open for the pyro. His pants were undone, and lowered, and he clenched his eyes shut as he was fully exposed.
The other hand drew a slick, cool line down the cleft of his ass and to a curl of muscle that had never before been breached in such a fashion. His breath grew a bit heavy, feeling every movement of the finger as it traced the lines of the wrinkled opening over and over and it was hot, more relaxing than it should have been in the face of what was actually about to happen.
And then, he slid in a swift yet skillful motion of a long digit moving into a constricted area. "Gn--!"
It wasn't too pleasant, not painful perse but not a sensation he would volunteer for any day of the week, yet he remained hard against Richie and he knew the other was blushing--it was pressing into his hip after all, and that almost made him smile if that stretching weren't so poignant in his mind.
God, that wasn't fair, he was going deeper and maybe he should've been thankful that he was going slowly but all he could think about was how much he hated the man for doing it at all. God--just, he couldn't believe it, bit this was happening, and he wasn't stopping, it he was...just...this was happening and it wasn't pleasant in the least being that finger was sliding in and his sphincter tightened to try to push it out no matter how his mind fought against it, told himself to get used to it or else it would hurt, and Virgil didn't like pain. Not like this.
This was different from a punch or a kick or even a blast of power from a Bang Baby--and he was allowing it, oh God, why was he allowing this...
"I feel you tensing, fuck, for god's sake, Hawkins, relax," He shifted deeper and Virgil's teeth tightened on his lip as he did, a small groan forming in the back of his throat. "It has to get worse before it get's better."
Better, as if.
There was a hot mouth on the back of his neck, and cooler breath against his ear, the one he wanted because that…hurt, and he was letting it happen and…God. It was important. It had to happen, he couldn't let his family be hurt, and he couldn't let Richie be the one…the one too…
Gods, it was deep, just--oh, it was moving, thrusting in deep, pulling back to the first knuckle before shoving back in again. Virgil whimpered against pale skin.
"Sh…S'okay, Virg…" Richie muttered and God, for a moment Virgil thought it might have been.
And then his grip on Richie tightened, a moan of pain choking out through gritted teeth as a second finger joined the passage and stretched him. God, that hurt, that hurt, and Virgil shook and that mouth on the nape of his neck scraped teeth down to his shoulder blades as a distraction. It served as one, barely, a spark of pleasant sensation amidst a flurry of painful neurons rushing to his brain, dull and aching, crawling up his spine like a malicious worm.
Francis had big hands--strong and firm, and not slender at all, two fingers was no small feat to take in so suddenly. There was warmth there, almost a kindling of fire there as they began to move again. His groan was something short of pain, but not of pleasure, but Hotstreak was working his magic inside him and it was warm, easing his muscles into acceptance but it was…God. It was so damn deep and Richie was so close to him, there to see his humiliation and Virgil wasn't sure whether to be mortified by his witnessing or grateful for his comfort because…God…This was Hotstreak.
"Nh…" A low grunt as he those fingers delved deeper still, massaging the walls of his insides open wider and scissoring in rough motions as Richie's hand rubbed smooth circles in the center of his back, and it helped, it did--until his hips jerked suddenly toward the fingers, and something rocked through his body that make his shout deeply against Richie's throat, eyes shooting open. "GNH!?"
"Ah…found it, Virgil, do you know what this is?" His voice was husky, laced with a hoarse anticipation, because that spot made lightning in his blood that had nothing to do with his powers.
He didn't answer, because no, he didn't, for God's sake, and his didn't trust himself not to moan once he opened his mouth as that finger drew across that spot again, longer and jagged and--
"Nah-!" Heat soared through him, raking through his bones and crashing over his body like a tidal wave, a series of strangled choking noises as his fingers tangled with the covers.
"That's you're prostate."
Pressing, again, harder, deeper, his hips yanked toward it to impale himself deeper --that wasn't his fault--and he cried out, Richie holding him closer still, his body shaking now with pleasure. It was good, it was good, it was so damn good it made him want to scream but he couldn't, because that pressure sucked the very breath out of his lungs. He was panting now, renewed and hard against taut pale thighs, the wide palm of Hotstreak's hand resting against his bottom as his fingers continued to work at his insides as ha shuddered and gasped harshly, Richie's slender hands curling slightly and…oh, Richie was getting hard too--against him, because of him--
"It's what's going to have you writhing, Virgil, what's going to make you scream for me…"
And then the fingers were gone and warm hands were quickly gripping his hips and tilting up. Virgil's cheeks warmed and held onto Richie as if he were going to be taken away from him. Richie secured his arms and whispered in his ears words the darker boy could not make out and his hardness was burning into his hip, it was….
That was the tip of his heated cock pressing against his entrance and he froze up, his heart pounding in his ears because Francis was…not a small man. How could…oh, hell…He peered up slightly, and Richie was looking at him, and Virgil could read his expression like a book, scared and guilty and full of regret, because he felt like it should have been him. The blue was going cobalt with his arousal, and in turn with his shame, a pink tongue licking his lips (and God, Virgil had tasted that tongue) as he parted them to speak, Virgil swallowing still because there was solid heat at his hole and it terrified him.
"Relax, please, relax, I don't…God…" God, God, God, he wanted out of this, but he couldn't, he just wanted the man to be gone because he was scared. It felt like that first fight with Francis-turned-Hotstreak and he'd choked. But he couldn't this time. Not when his family and Richie were on the line, no, he… "I.. it should have been me, V, I…"
"Don't be fooled, Foley, he's not doing this to save you," Hotstreak chuckled hotly under Virgil's ear, hands lifting taut brown hips higher still and lining up perfectly to press against the hole, nudging tauntingly against it. "He just wants you for himself."
Virgil got a glimpse of those eyes widening, those cheeks flashing red once more, before he clenched his eyes shut with the feeling that be could described as little more than being pried open.
Hotstreak was going in and Virgil was crying out, clenching his teeth hard but that didn't help, a sweat drop seeping down his brow and over his temple as he was impaled inch by searing inch. His sounds were too loud, pathetic to his own ears, but it hurt, hell, it hurt so damn much he felt like he was being split in two pieces, more than physically. He wanted out of this, but he couldn't, but it hurt, but he couldn't.
Oh, damn, severe choking sounds, moans that were clipped and harsh.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"
"Oh fuck, that's--damn it, that's so…gnh, tight…"
"Ah--hn--gnh…!"
"Virgil, please, I…"
"Shut up, Foley, that pitiful voice of yours is turning me on even more--I'm hardly dealing with this right now--and you don't want me to tear your boyfriend, do you?"
"…"
"Do you?"
"…D…don't hurt him."
"That's what I thought." With a final rocking motion, Francis was fully sheathed within him and it was a surprise when he paused to allow Virgil to adjust. Or perhaps it wasn't--Hotstreak didn't want to hurt him, not like this. Hotstreak never intended to hurt people, that wasn't his way, he was just too short-sighted (and tempered) to see anything but his own personal gain.
And hurting Virgil would not serve his purpose. Not at all.
He wanted Virgil to like it. Hotstreak wanted to make Static scream, but not with pain.
The worst part was, Virgil wasn't sure he wouldn't scream, if he were to hit that mark, over and over--
"Gonna move now," Francis grunted, and there was a tone to his voice that was almost feral, his hands nearly burning Virgil's hips and it was annoying, that he didn't hate the touch. "Brace yourself, Hawkins."
And he did, a swift, short thrusting motion, more of a rock of the hips than a real plunge, but it make Virgil see stars behind his eyes. The friction of the movement, the steady body heat of the other's arousal, the fire powers coursing through him and that spot combined made for the most divine, torturous stroke of his hips that could ever be, a short groan ripping from his lips, and…Richie's mouth was on his ear.
His tongue, timid and gentle against the delicate shell of his ear and oh Gods, he was thrusting in again. A little harder, a little faster a little…more everything.
"H-Hahn…!"
"Virgil…"
"NH--Richie--!"
That heat was behind him, the hard plan of Hotstreak's body pressed against his back. He wasn't fully undressed at all, his shirt remained, his pants riding down his thighs enough to be free to move his hips, quick, shallow snapping motions deeper, fuck, it was hot. Virgil clutched and gasped, each inward pass nudging against that little bundle of nerves, it made his eyes roll, especially when he picked up speed.
Something primal wrapped around Virgil's mind, breath hot against Richie's neck as he thrust his hips back, returning the movement and that shocked them all.
Richie gasped softly and pressing his mouth to Virgil's ear, the blond trembling slightly beneath him. Francis didn't pause, merely gripped his hips tighter and pulled back driving in with an intensity that had Virgil shouting and grasping at Richie desperately before he was going to fall. He was going to go insane, it was too damn much because he was going in again, again, again--!!
"HAH! Ngah--!" Gods, it was so hot, Virgil would never be able to look Richie in the eye again, let alone the fiery bang baby who thrust just so, just there, with a precision designed to bring the hero into complete madness.
Sot hot, so damn hot, the fierceness of the thrusts was more forceful now until he couldn't distinguish one cry from the next, the deep thrusts rocking him on Richie's hips, the low grunt of the larger boy and the soft gasps of Richie below him. His skin was soft, like silk against Virgil's Richie's skin, and God--
Hotstreak growled into his ear, his hold on his waist until Virgil was positive he would bruise and slamming into the spot. A sharp sound ripping out of his lips again, once more, yes, oh God, just there it was perfect and he was on fire, he thought he might actually be considering who was---Oh Gods just--There, yes, that spot was lightning like he'd never been able to experience through the use of his powers.
"Richie, oh --HA--Richie, Richie, oh Gods please, its good--!! Nagghh!!" Virgil couldn't stop the dark, deep words he groaned from his lips, and he loved the smooth skin beneath him, and just God, he loved everything about him, he hated that he liked this. The man in him, it was hormones, it was just nature, he'd learned about it in biology, it wasn't his fault -- "HAHN!"
Francis was strong, powerful and muscled and transforming the more careful thrusts into carnal, forceful thrusts that would have ripped the darker Bang Baby if his body wasn't so damn welcoming.
"That's it, Static, fuck--"
Oh God that was too much too fast, too soon, he was driving in, forcing past what little of him he hadn't yet conquered and screaming. Oh, oh god, it was so good, he drove into that spot and his mouth was ripped open, his fingers clawing at Richie's sides and shoulders for purchase as he moved, oh god, oh, it was good, he was so. So hot it was going to kill him because Hotstreak was moving in abandon now and his hips jerked back to meet it because it was perfect, so hot, he was going to just --die. Drive him into the ground, and he was already going blind, words at a loss as the pleasure shocked his body and sent him into convulsions as he did his best to meet the thrusts.
"Oh god, I can't, it's NGH--!" He was bucking into him, moving now without thinking, a rhythm that had Virgil writhing and meeting each, and, every, single, plunge, holding onto his friend; clinging to that body because he had nothing else except for the hellish heaven he was being driven into.
He was pounded downward into the mattress, into Richie, the force of each plunge tearing a screaming from his throat until the tender skin there was sore and he was bucking back into him and it was ridiculous, his movements wild and needy because Francis was thrusting into that spot and it was so good, it was so good he couldn't breathe, oh please, he had to breathe, but more than anything he needed for this to keep going.
--Oh, that was freaking amazing. He threw his head back and shouted out, only able to repeat the motion, his every action carnal and build on ecstasy and the need for more. "UAH!! Hah--! Nah…!!"
"You gonna come, Static?" God, it was wrong that that voice made Virgil grow even hotter, that even as he was clutching at Richie's slim body, that perfect skin, that sweet, beautiful body under his and oh fuck he loved him, he was going insane and he loved him to damn much ---
"AH--" It was a strangled scream that stopped in his throat and choked him until his face flushed even further, deprived of air as time stopped and the motion of his hips dug down one more, deep so--so deep inside him, and then just--stopped. Everything. He clenched around him, dragging Hotstreak deeper still because it was that spot, the way he made sure to stoke it just like that-and it had him ripping himself form the inside out, and--There. Finally everything moved again, like a rush of wind as he raced upward at an unimaginable speed, his back bowing and his scream finishing piercingly, something harsh and loud and wanton and damn it was almost a sob, because everything felt so good and his bones ached from the pleasure and he was smoldering and shaking and still wanting. "UAHH-HAHH…!!!"
His nails raked up to the nape of his neck and his thighs clamped on his waist and the muscles of his stomach seized and trembled as he was left a gasping mess in in Richie's lap and just--oh.
Reality had yet to return to him, and there was still white in front of his eyes, and it lasted forever and only a second and small sounds tumbled form his lips as he fell back to himself, "Nh-ah-ngh-hah-"
Nails dug into his hips and he felt Hotstreak seize behind him, a soft whimper as liquid heat rushed into him, filled and dripped out of him, down his thighs an…Virgil was slowly coming back, and Richie was stroking his fingers over the coarseness of his hair, and he shivered and sighed gently against him. Gods.
He pulled out with a slick sound and straightened up, doing up his pants. He was panting too, but more composed than either Virgil or Richie. He was tired…fuck, he was so tired, exhausted and it…was over.
"You're secret is safe with me, boys," That gruff voice murmured, and Virgil licked his lips, slightly chapped from all that shrieking. Somewhere there were footsteps, and then they were gone, leaving them warm in Virgil's bed, and he sighed and pressed his face into Richie's chest.
They lay there in the wake of the interaction, the kiss, and all the embracing and touching and…God. Virgil loved him. He brought his eyes up, slowly, lingering on his collarbone, and then his beautiful, slender throat and over his jaw and chin and those plush, pink lips, his button nose and to those large almond shaped blue eyes.
…Virgil loved him.
And blue connected with his curious brown, the cerulean slightly timid, unsure and hopeful and…in that meeting, this situation brought up by dreaded circumstances lead them to look into each other's eyes as they lay tangled in long limbs and sweat and semen, and Virgil knew…
Richie loved him back.
His brown skin seemed even darker against the other boy's pale cheek for a moment as his pale brushed against it, before lowering it again to wrap his arms around the other's body. He ached, pleasantly in fact, and he was so …so tired…He felt Richie relax beneath him and Virgil rested his head against his chest, some part of him wondering briefly, and Hotstreak had never caught him calling the statue of his mother 'mom' and hadn't blackmailed them into coming to the bed…
He would have never known how Richie felt about him. Hell, he wouldn't have know how he felt about Richie.
Then the possession growled again with the other boy in his arms, even through that bliss, and Virgil's arms tightened around Richie just slightly as he drifted somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, this moment where nothing mattered, and the next, where Static, Gear and reality waited.
-
-
-
This is my first Static Shock fan fiction…Before I wrote Death Note...it's why I have L's name in here. (faint) I editted it best I could...I have a bigger story idea in mind, one that will not be Porn Without Plot. I wanted to do this to test out the characters.
One thing I believe about the character Hotstreak is he is an ass hole , but he's not a genuinely bad person. He's more selfish than malicious. Like here, he's still all 'do what I say' but he isn't out to hurt them. The only reason he has a vendetta against them is because they ruin his fun.
And the bullying at school is because he's secretly attracted to them. Obviously. (cough)
I thought about putting the scene before this, the whole 'leading up to sex' part, but I decided not to. I hope I got across the happenings pretty well. You think?
So…please tell me what you think! The Static Shock section of this sight is in serious need of contribution. Spread the wealth! :D
-Toes