Time frame: The Parish
Rating: M for language and m/m sexual situations
Relationships established: [Secret] Nellis
Description: The group finds themselves trapped in a church and decides to play a game to pass the time.
Warnings: Abuse triggers
In the last four days, the two managed to keep what they'd done and continued to do together a secret. Every single night they'd wait until both Rochelle and Coach were sound asleep before fooling around in the safehouse. They moved quickly, the apocalypse was no time to take it slow. Over those four days they'd done everything short of penetration, both because they were too nervous to approach the idea and because they were satisfied with the cornucopia of other pleasures they'd lavish on one another. It was going well, they'd relieve all of their built up tension in one night and then wouldn't talk about it the next day. It's what got them through the hard rain. The moments they shared in darkness kept them sane long enough for Virgil's boat to whisk the group away to another hot ass parish, where they were on their own again.
"The planes are still picking up survivors, guys. We have to hurry." Rochelle called, making her way down a fairly empty street.
"What survivors? Last time I checked, everyone is dead except us." Coach replied.
"That's the spirit." Nick agreed, testing doorknobs and finding that the only open house didn't even have a door.
They piled in, killing infected and heading up the stairs to raid the abandoned rooms. There were planes zooming by overhead, close enough to knock stucco from the ceilings.
It was unnerving. Were they actually close to being rescued this time? Was it possible, or like Nick said, was the government shooting the survivors?
"I've been to this area before." Ellis recalled fondly, "Me and Keith went to a concert on his birthday. He turned 17. We got so damn drunk we couldn't in good conscience drive his truck so we slept in the back until morning. It got real cold around 2:30 in the morning and that was just because Keith forgot to set the parking brake so we coasted into the river. The truck was sinking so-"
"Ellis, how in the hell is that boy always coming out of this shit? Hasn't he learned a damn thing?" Coach asked.
"Now that you mention it, he did learn never to take a shortcut through the woods. See, back when we were 16/17, I invited him to come over to my house after football practice. I missed it because I had the stomach flu. Anyway, he said he would be over at 5:00 and we'd hang out that weekend. Well, Keith was never over 20 minutes late for anything, so when 6:00 came around I got a little worried. But I was feelin like hell so I fell asleep. Well, 10:30 at night I get a knock on my door and it's Keith."
"What'd he do, get lost?" Rochelle asked.
"No. He sure didn't. I'm still not clear on what happened. I mean, all I can do is follow my instincts. The guy was all banged up, had a bloody nose and his arms were wrapped real tight around himself when I let him in. He wouldn't talk to me at all, just sat down on my mom's couch, staring at the floor with real bloodshot eyes. For a year after that he would jump if someone touched him and he got real nervous in groups of more than 5 or 6. My first guess was aliens, but then again..." Ellis trailed off, noticing that his other teammates stopped and stared at him.
"Yeah, I don't like this story much either." He finished.
Renewed at the sheer joy at being out of the hard rain, the group seemed to mow through infected a lot quicker than before, the heat and the sun doing wonders for their previous injuries. They weren't as aware of their surroundings as they had to be days before and their gunshots used to kill the Tank drew the attention of several hordes all at once. They pulled back and took refuge in a church, right along the cemetery. Infected lined up around the doors and windows, but the support was holding well enough to fire at them through broken pieces of stained glass. It was a slow process, and by the time the hordes were dead again, the sun was setting.
"Looks like divine intervention. Here's our safehouse for the night." Coach laughed.
"Believe it or not, this is the first time since my grandpa's funeral that I have been to church. Except my family was Baptists." Rochelle commented, checking pews for any leave-behinds.
"I was raised jack-Catholic. Went to a church just like this one when I was little." Ellis added.
"Yeah, my family was Catholic, too. I didn't go to services once after I turned 17...well, aside from my wedding day." Nick was remembering out loud.
"Some poor woman married you?" Rochelle laughed.
"Two poor women married me." Nick corrected.
"Surprise surprise." Coach said, sitting in a pew.
"Well, since we're stuck here until morning. We could play a bit of a game." Ellis suggested.
"Jesus... the fun never stops with you." Nick scoffed.
"You guys like I never?" Ellis asked.
"Usually it's funner with beer." Ro complained.
"Well, I found a box of toothpicks in the kitchen of that one house. We can play for toothpicks, and when we get rescued, we will turn them into beers and have a good ass time all over again. Deal?"
"Deal." Ro said after some considering.
"Deal." Coach agreed.
"I am not getting into this...oh hell with it. Fine, I'm in." Nick sat down with the group.
"I'll go first with... I've never been arrested." Rochelle said.
"Gimme a toothpick." Nick muttered.
"Yep, me too." Ellis agreed.
"What'd you do, boy?" Coach asked.
"Bar fight." Ellis answered.
"I never did anything with a man." Coach chuckled.
"Gimme a toothpick." Rochelle rolled her eyes.
"Yep, me too." Ellis agreed.
"El.." Nick's voice held an edge.
"What? One time after a night of drinkin, Keith kissed me dead on the mouth. That counts, right? Like, nothin else happened, but that counts?"
"Yep, it counts." Rochelle smiled.
"Okay, I never got anybody pregnant." Nick said confidently.
"Gimme a toothpick." Coach said. "I never cheated."
Everyone sat silently for a moment.
"Okay, sisters of mercy. Gimme a toothpick." Nick said after a moment.
"Nick, you pig." Ro groaned.
"Aw, you're a dirty old man. Like that dirty old man down the street that always tried to look up my shorts when I was passed out in the front yard." Ellis added.
"Hey, I had my reasons."
"Nah, there's no good reason to cheat." Coach agreed.
"You didn't know my ex-wife. See, a year into our marriage, I find out she's been with three other guys after we said 'I do'. She told one of them that I hit her, and no I fucking didn't. So he tried to pick a fight with me. I hit him in the head with a tire iron, then hooked up with her best friend. I sent her a picture of it on her phone and said, 'I want a divorce, bitch.' Anyway, I have never had an STD."
"Gimme a toothpick." Ellis said, embarrassed.
"Goddamn it, Ellis. Really?" Nick asked, passing his companion a toothpick.
"Yeah. I was going out with this girl. We were together like six months and since she had an IUD, I wasn't using condoms. One day, my junk started to burn, and when it got to me too much to ignore, I went to the doc. Apparently I had the clap. I really wanted to believe this happened for some other reason, but Keith's brother actually pulled me aside and said he slept with her. This was like three years ago."
"Did you get that shit cleaned up?" Nick asked, grossed out.
"Yep. I got the meds and got her the hell out of my life. Went to the bar and had several beers. Keith beat the shit out of his brother."
The group played and laughed. By the end of the game, Nick had a whopping 43 toothpicks, followed by Rochelle's 29, Coach's 27 and Ellis' 24. They took turns keeping watch and at 2:00am, it was the youngest member's turn.
"Hey goober." Nick sat down beside the southerner toward the front of the church while Ro and Coach slept on the pews toward the podium.
"Hey, you should be sleepin." Ellis smiled when Nick gave him a playful shove.
"Nah, you know I'm not gonna sleep for a while."
"Okay. Want a stick of gum?" Ellis offered.
"What flavor?"
"It's Big Red, so...cinnamon." Ellis answered.
"No. I hate cinnamon." Nick sighed.
"C'mon, what do you got against cinnamon?" Ellis asked, pulling a stick out of the pack for himself but not unwrapping it yet.
"Well if you must know, my dad beat the shit out of me over cinnamon when I was 14."
"What? What happened? Why over cinnamon?" Ellis asked, dropping his stick of gum.
"Listen, kid. Part of me wants to trust you, and I haven't talked about this to anyone, so I'm actually going to go against my better judgment and tell you. But you need to promise not to tell anyone else, okay? Promise?" Nick scanned his companion's eyes for any hint of wavering.
"Of course. I'm good at keeping a secret."
"Okay. Well, I was living in Newark at the time, with my parents. I was the youngest so I was the only kid still living at home. It was winter and my lips were chapped as hell. So I was at the shitty little convenience store around the corner and I got myself some chapstick. Since it was winter, they just had the holiday ones. I had the choice between eggnog and cinnamon. Unfortunately I picked cinnamon. No big deal, right? Wrong. I go home and my dad can smell my cinnamon chapstick a mile away. He flips his shit and starts yelling at me about how only whorey girls smell like cinnamon. He was drunk already, so treat-Nick-like-crap-game was full steam ahead.
"He kept going at it, telling me that he already had enough daughters and that someone in this house needed to be a man besides him. He just got more aggressive with it. Told me if I wanted to smell like a whore then I should go outside and start sucking dicks for money. So eventually I got pissed. Keep in mind he's going nuts over a goddamn chapstick. So I said, 'It's a damn chapstick, you stupid asshole.' And he went off, beat the shit out of me in the living room. Broke my hand and wrist, six of my ribs, my nose, bruised my collarbone and hairline fractured two places in my skull."
"I'm real sorry." Ellis answered, laying his hand on the older man's thigh.
"Yeah, it was pretty shitty. Especially because I had to lie and say I got beat up by some crackheads when I went to the hospital because my dad said I would be out of the house if I didn't. That was my old man most of the time. Drinking ass motherfucker and I grew up just like him."
"Nah, no you didn't. You aint shit like him. I don't see that in you."
"Thanks El."
Nick caught the younger man's gaze. "What?" He smirked.
"Can I kiss you, Nick?" Ellis asked in a low voice, cheeks flushed.
"You don't have to ask me, Ellis. I'm not royalty." He started to laugh for only a second before the younger man was on him. Their mouths joined and Ellis' hands cupped either side of Nick's face.
This wasn't just a kiss, it was a kiss if ever Nick felt one. It was strong and passionate and something about such a simple show of affection sent shocks of arousal through the pair instantly. Ellis had a way of doing things. Kissing him was so strange and yet so powerful that Nick didn't want to stop. It built heat between them and the urgency of it jumped to a fevered pitch. The pair were in a rush to pull each other's clothes off as they closed themselves into the confession box, just in case one of their companions were to wake up.
Now naked, the two of them rutted against one another, hands drifted over marred flesh, mouths not sure of whether to stay together or roam about the other's body. After minutes of desperate kisses and the pleasurable friction of bare shafts rubbing to the point of leaving damp stripes on the other's lower belly, Ellis lost his battle and found himself on his knees again. With Nick's fist in his hair as a guide, he wasted no time in taking his lover's cock as deep into his mouth as he was capable. He quickly worked up a rhythm and ideal angle with his perfect plush lips as Nick struggled to stifle moans.
"Goddamn it, Ellis. You're getting so good at this." He sighed, barely able to remain standing.
After only a short time, the gambler sunk onto the floor with Ellis, kissing him once on his lips before positioning the southerner almost on his lap.
"So fucking turned on right now...I've always wanted to have sex in a church." Nick whispered, nipping at Ellis' neck as strong hands took the younger man's hips.
"I want you so goddamn bad, Ellis."
The conman's hips tensed with need, pushing up, using every last ounce of self-control to keep from breeching Ellis right then and there. He was so close that another inch would have done it.
"I want you, too." Ellis moaned, hand pumping his shaft, "I want you to make love to me, Nick."
That was it. That was all he needed for consent. That was all his brain could comprehend with is pulse rushing the way it was. Still wet from being blown not long ago, Nick shifted forward, pulling his partner's hips down to meet the pressure of being entered.
It was not an easy task. Ellis' body was not accustomed to this and Nick had only ever done it with experienced women. He didn't know a lot about prepping when a body was too tight. Instead he just pushed, hoping to get through the constricting muscle with a little more effort. He was in, though not buried. The first couple of inches were a struggle alone. The last few were not going.
"Relax El." Nick grunted, trying to deepen another half an inch.
Nick paused. The man under him was stiff as a board. His hand stopped its movement between his legs and he was not moving an inch. In the darkness of the confession box, the gambler leaned in to offer a supportive kiss to a damp cheek.
"You crying, baby?" He asked.
"No." Came a grunt, "No, I aint cryin. Just holding my breath, tryin to get through this." Everything Ellis said seemed forced.
"I'm hurting you, aren't I?" Nick didn't even need the answer. Of course the kid was in pain. Every muscle in his body was drawn tight as a bow. It must have been extremely violating for a man who'd never been penetrated before, and Ellis was failing miserably at toughing it out.
"Yeah...Yeah it hurts. I'm sorry." came an honest answer.
"No, I'm sorry." Nick said, pulling out as slowly as possible. "I don't want this if it hurts you." Whoa, what the fuck was that about? This was the very first time the older man sought out sex and didn't get it. He would have thought, given his nature, he would have been a lot bitchier and at least demanded a handjob to get off. But in an odd turn of events, he didn't care right now. He didn't care about finishing. He cared about Ellis.
The two dressed, grabbing their clothes that were just on the outside of the confession box before curling up together on the floor. Nick's arms held the younger, firmer body against his and they rested together.
"I'm real sorry, Nick." Ellis said again.
"It's not a big deal. Maybe I was just going in too dry. If we live through tomorrow, we'll give it another shot, kid. Get some sleep." The older man replied, resting his chin on top of his lover's trucker hat.