"Not until you bleed for it."
But what he wasn't expecting was Aladdin to lash out with his fist, catching him across the lip. He tasted his own blood, and it only fueled him, squeezing delicate flesh between his sword coarse fingers. This time, Aladdin's foot swung up to strike his collarbone with hectic force, and Rasoul momentarily lost pressure in his grip around Aladdin's neck, which was all he really needed to slip free and fly at Rasoul, using any appendage Allah ever gave him, sole purpose to hurt the man before him, whose very presence made his blood boil.
Rasoul met him head on like a steel wall, backing up a step only to use their momentum to swing Aladdin into the obstacle of the metal post that ran from the foot of the bed. Aladdin faltered in discomfort, but only for a moment, bringing his knee up quick and hard, aiming right for Rasoul's...
Rasoul caught it.
"Now Now, I know you have no class but at least fight clean."
Holding Aladdin's knee up to his chest to pinion him, he battered Aladdin, battered down the arms that flew up to protect his face, battered the chest and stomach that heaved in emotion. He let go suddenly, letting Aladdin collapse to the floor, where his younger partner turned to spit blood on the floor.
Rasoul looked down at Aladdin in disgust, at the tousled head streaked with sweat and blood.
"Disgusting" he snorted.
Aladdin looked up weakly, hopelessly, unknowingly having the wrong desired affect on Rasoul.
"Get up", Rasoul ordered, offering no room for disobedience or squabble. Aladdin hesitated, rising up slowly on one knee, till Rasoul, in his impatience, yanked him up by his arm and hurled him on the dirty mattress, Aladdin rolling gracelessly. Rasoul followed with more direction, grabbing a thigh that was scrabbling for purchase. Aladdin flopped down in defeat, and howled when Rasoul's hand cupped him between the legs. He shut his eyes tightly. Rasoul's touch burnt, it made his skin crawl, pores hiss out steam, and lungs tighten, because Rasoul's hands worked without fondness or concern. But he didn't dare fight this. No he didn't dare fight this, he resolved as his head tossed on the pillow in an effort to forget the present.
Rasoul's teeth grit in his head, grinding together imperceptibly. Aladdin disgusted him; Aladdin enraged him, but most of all, Aladdin provoked and motivated him. His fingers ignored Aladdin's own manhood, as painfully uninterested as it was, moving with rough fingertips to dip into Aladdin's very own body without patience or specific know how, even after all these months. Aladdin arched, bit his lip until it bled to keep from screaming in pain as his insides were scraped and abused, hurriedly stretched. A drop of sweat from Rasoul's forehead landed on Aladdin's shoulder, and an abject sob wrenched itself from his emotion wrapped throat.
"That tears it" Rasoul growled.
He rose, painfully hard, mammoth erection bumping Aladdin's thigh as, like a rag doll, he jerked him up with him. He dragged the stumbling teen once again to the foot of the bed, situating him between the posts. Aladdin's hands instinctively went up to grass them as a hand on his back forced him to bend. His legs shook as Rasoul abandoned any other efforts of preparing him for what was to come, instead taking his smaller hips in his hands.
For a moment, it was only their breathing, their chorused, panting, upset breathing. Then Rasoul's whole countenance darkened, as if in remembrance, and slammed home with bone shaking force. Aladdin jarred forward, breath caught in his throat, eyes wide as his entire body tightened around the spear inside him, arching backwards but hands still desperately clutching the posts.
An almost animalistic growl of satisfaction rumbled in Rasoul, and he pulled out with a painstakingly unhurried, grating motion, Aladdin's keening in his own throat. He then thrust forward once more; no inhibitions or mercy lessening the force in which he did it, and this time Aladdin did find it in him to scream. But instead of trying to shush or silence him, Rasoul only seemed to be trying to encourage it, twisting and turning his punishing plunges into the other's wracked body, as if to intensify Aladdin's pain.
Aladdin's mind was lost to red pain, the volume of his own yells for mercy giving him a headache but damned if he was going to stop, and damned if he actually believed help was coming. Rasoul had most obviously paid off the hotel owners', as he did every hotel, but not many men would have the guns to interrupt whatever the Captain of the Guard was doing anyhow. Aladdin could only hold on, swim away in his own mind from the pain in his lower back, the throbbing in his abused body, and the sharp tickle in his eyes. That's when he realized he was crying; his screams dying as hot tears splashed busily on his chest and he slumped forward, feeling the hot sting of Rasoul's release inside his torn body.
Rasoul's weight stayed on him, for a moment, breathing hard in his ear, until he pulled up with an unpleasant grunt. He dragged Aladdin by the waist to the bed, where he collapsed, and his arms round his younger partner's middle as he succumbed to post coital exhaustion.
Aladdin stared at the wall for some time before he too slept.