Title: As Wrong As It Gets
Author: Whyyy
Rating: R (hahaha, I didn't wuss out!!)
Category: Crap
Summary: SpikexVicious, which is…as wrong as it gets, in my humble opinion. Hence the title.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the characters.
Warning: Okay, here it is. OMG IT'S VICIOUS RAPE!! WRONG WRONG WRONG. RAPE IS ICKY, MALE/MALE SEX MAKES SOME PEOPLE UNHAPPY, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, I FREELY ADMIT KNOW NEXT TO NOTHING ABOUT SEX. THEREFORE, THE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTIONS OF SUCH SEXUAL ACTS WILL PROBABLY MAKE NO SENSE AND YET I WILL SHAMELESSLY PLOW ON, TYPING EPIC PARAGRAPHS OF BAD IMAGERY. Well, I'm not sure, actually, if it's rape 'cuz in anime, sometimes one character is like 'nooooooo' and another character is all, 'yeessss', and they end up having forceful sex, but the 'nooooooo' character had no complaints at the end. …anyways, in closing, those of you who have actually read this far, I commend you on your…sickness. BUT, up until now, the fic has largely been just…stupid, but now it is stupid AND gross. Mwa ha ha ha…ha…ha. I mean, this is FREAKY. I feel sick trying to edit this. You just might read it and get hives or something. SO BE WARNED (but still feel free to flame; this is a response I've expected ever since I began this debauchery). Of course, if you're my roommate, READ IT ALL. Twice.
Jean/again: Sorry this chapter took so long. On the other hand, if you actually read this, I'm rather sure you're going to wish I just dropped this fic. So…sorry again :P.
Aki the 13th Gung ho Gun: Heh thanks for the review. Here's the fourth chappie. But the funniness ends here, so read at your own risk.
TheSadist: weak laugh Thanks for the support. Hope you're a masochist too. XD
Neko-jin Rogue: Hooray, I'm glad/a little scared you liked this so much! Terribly sorry the chapter wasn't there for you, but uh…enjoy. Hopefully. Probably not.
magical mystery tourguide: Aww my first negative review. Haha, awesome-ness. What made you think it'd be good in the first place, though? oO
Chapter 4 – The Wrong-ness Strikes Full-Force
Spike's day was finally starting to look almost phenomenally better. Feeling Vicious's fleshy derriere between his fingers sent an electric shiver of pleasure up his spine and simultaneously to that dubious place between his legs we call the groin. Further exploration of the groin will follow briefly.
But before the groin and its associates can do their thang, Spike had to get more of Vicious's scrumpdiddlyumptious body between his fingers, and he wasn't all that worried. After all, if he and Vicious appeared to hate one another with a passion hotter than the flames of Hell, did it not mean they subconsciously desired one another? It's a basic pairing tenement: Rivals just want some hanky-panky with one another. The curses and weapons they fling at one another are simply borne of a tumultuous overbearing sexual tension and unstoppable attraction. And Vicious had been Spike's friend at one point, anyway. Another indication that he wanted him right here, right NOW. Honestly, what other conclusion could one jump to?
Spike decided that enough time had been wasted building up to or possibly just stalling this moment and grabbed Vicious, bringing his lips down on top of the shorter man's in a bruising kiss. Vicious gasped like a squirrel that had lost all its nuts, hands clutching at Spike's jacket collar, the fabric balling between his slender fingers. Spike's tongue demanded entry at the corner of Vicious's mouth, probably wiggling around and poking between the lips. Now, some skeptics might point out that it should be difficult and nigh impossible for a tongue to just barge its way into another person's mouth, particularly if that person was ardently against having a tongue forced down his throat. Well, said skeptics have a point. That notwithstanding, Spike's tongue managed to squeeze in and began to explore the warm caverns that were Vicious's mouth.
And Vicious was delish. He tasted like honey and vanilla and strawberries and roasted turkey and pickles and rhubarb pie. No, make that apple pie. Spike was positively heady with Vicious's unique flavor as he sucked and nibbled, trailing his tongue along the line of his captive's fine jaw and arched neck, leaving a burning trail of saliva on the opalescent skin, glowing ethereally in the odd mixture of lamp and moonlight. These ministrations left Vicious whimpering softly, because would-be anime rapees always whimper as opposed to, say, screaming their lungs out, but he managed to regain enough of his senses and usual character-ness to struggle against Spike's almost inhuman hold. Normally, it would seem Vicious, being a cunning killer with a katana and the brains to take on some weirdo syndicate, would be able to put up a fair fight and even fashion some sort of escape. Alas, he'd somehow dropped his katana in the confusion and it was now (in)conveniently out of his reach. And any adrenaline pumping through Vicious's system was nothing compared to the power of pheromones and lust going wild in Spike's. In other words, Spike is having an unrealistically easy time having his way with Vicious. C'est la vie, Vicious.
Meanwhile, as Spike was necking Vicious, one hand was also busy slipping underneath Vicious's 100% cotton torsowear, running his fingertips lightly against the supple sides of the straining body against him, while the other hand clamped firmly down on the back of Vicious's neck to keep his rape victim from breaking free and heading for the hills. In case one was wondering what Vicious was doing while Spike was working so diligently away on his sexual assault, well, Vicious was just making pitiful little whiny grunts of protest, such as "…no…nnnngghh…" or something. Finally, Spike just ripped off Vicious's shirt in a sex-ified frenzy with a loud satisfying rip, exposing Vicious's entire well-toned marble (the white sort, without any black streaks) chest and two dark nipples.
Vicious was, of course, indignant about his shirt being destroyed, and tried to say so. Like so: "Damnit Spike, that was my shirt, you ass."
And Spike responded by doing something creative to his nipples. And not like painting them. And Vicious liked that, oh yes he did, despite his best efforts not to. He was, after all, still a man. So he gasped and writhed, his hips unconsciously bucking like a bronco at Spike's. Seriously. Like a bronco. Because similes are AWESOME, and add to the wild and burning hot yaoi action.
Spike leered at Vicious's reaction, and decided it was time for some heavy-duty boffing. He flipped the pretty-much-technically-not-resisting Vicious around onto…a…nearby car, since the lot they were in was not just any old lot, but a DESERTED PARKING lot. Vicious shivered at the shock of cold metal touching his bare skin that was rapidly warming up under Spike's wickedly talented hands. He started to stand back up and finally fight back, although it was already rather despairingly late for that, but Vicious froze again as Spike's arms went around him, deftly unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants and boxers in one fluid motion.
Well, it's not hard to guess the rest. Honestly, 1 naked Vicious bent over on some car with no alarm 1 savagely horny Spike? Do the math. But okay. So Spike reached into his pants and whipped out his penis/cock/manhood/family jewels/insert another laughable euphemism. So, what does Spike's penis/cock/manhood/family jewels/insert another laughable euphemism look like? Firstly, it was BIG, because it wouldn't do for it to be small here. Next, it was meaty, but maybe a little wrinkly around the edges. Vein-y. Tan, like the rest of his wonderfully virile body. And ready to splurt torrents and torrents of semen in Class V torrents. Satisfied?
And then, Spike took that big ol' organ of his and stuffed it in a fun spot of Vicious's where the sun don't shine. And Vicious went, "OOOWWWWWWWWW!!" because it HURT. Aaand…that's enough. For now. Dun dun dun.