A few carefully opened windows and very silent movement through an unfamiliar house at three in the morning brought a figure over Rick's bed. Craig eyed the man while he was asleep, baton extended and gloves very carefully tugged tight over his fingers. The baton lowered and pressed against Rick's chin roughly. He woke with a start, sitting up with a good deal of shock before his eyes adjusted slightly.
"How. Do. You. Know me?" Craig growled in a very low voice.
"Found your apartment, didja?" Rick asked smugly.
The baton whipped across Rick's cheekbone with a crack; Craig had more than enough by now, "Answer the fucking question."
Rick worked his jaw around, raising his hand to his face until the baton cracked across his wrist, causing him to immediately drop it back down. The thief's demeanor was very clear in his utter rage, standing over the bed with his shoulders hunched, though Rick could not see the shorter man's face.
"I know enough," Rick said, easy grin never faltering.
"Bullshit. You knew me, not just about me, I'm not fucking blind!"
"You finally noticed? Took you long eno—"
Craig struck him across the face again with a vicious snarl, "The clothes, the fact that you were here when you had ADVERTISED that you would not, all of your guests that I happen to be very familiar with, on top of your knowledge of a certain… depraved act, ALL points to that you did not just issue a challenge that newspaper to some FACELESS THIEF."
Rick grinned again, lip a little bit bloody from being hit with the baton. Craig made a very loud angry noise that sounded vaguely akin to a furious cat and raised his baton to crack it right on Rick's skull, but the man deftly caught his wrist with a smug smile before he connected.
"Did my homework, it seems. Known who you are for a while," he mockingly cooed at Craig.
"Fuck you!"
The attempt to pull away was foiled by a forceful push, knocking Craig off balance, forcing him to roll to the floor. Rick pulled himself out of bed, face bruised and lip bleeding, but looking just as fucking cheery as when he first found a failed thief hiding under his bed. Craig pushed himself to his feet, pulling his arm across his body before striking Rick's shoulder, who recoiled in pain, but didn't back off.
"Been trailing you quite a long time actually, Mr. Renshaw," he replied, aiming a lazily aimed punch toward his Craig's shoulder, which was misdirected with another crack of the baton, "Was… probably five years ago, when you went and stole something from a family friend. Think the guy saw you high-tailing it out of there, beat the shit out of one of his bodyguards. I got curious, read up on you, found you made a habit out of it!"
Craig made an inhuman roar of rage and swung at his shoulder again, only to have his wrist caught yet again and twisted very cruelly behind his back. Rick's other muscular arm was wrapped around his chest. He could practically feel the smug bastard grinning against his neck, which only served to piss him off further.
"You read the papers, you do your research; I found that out really fast. You clean places out in no time and know them like your own house. You're not as careful as you think, though. I have… contacts. You saw your profile in that article, right? Wanna know why they had bullshit information? I fed it to them," Rick's voice was nearly gleeful as he relayed this information.
Craig thrashed, trying to free himself with the frenzy of a wounded animal. Rick obliged, letting him go, watching with amusement as the smaller man whipped around, gloved hands angling the baton in an arched fighting stance.
"You wanted what I stole," Craig accused, eyes flashing with anger.
"I don't know shit about that stuff, to be honest," Rick lazily stretched his arms above his head; he slept with just a pair of boxer briefs, a fact that was quickly making this fight a bit more distracting for Craig, as Rick didn't seem to care in the least about his immodesty.
"Then why the fuck have you been tracking me!" Craig remembered his rage very quickly; leaving his disgust with the shameless man only a second behind.
Rick rolled his shoulders back and shrugged, "You don't know what my life is like, but goddamn if yours isn't a helluva lot more interesting. You aren't some common crook, you don't steal for personal gain, but you're pretty damn good at it, motives aside. The wiles, the grace, the cleverness, I was convinced you were actually a woman for a while, not knowing anything else about you, until I found out about Mr. Wheatley Stuart. That took a long time, let me tell you."
Craig's fighting style was definitely not suited for offensive, but he couldn't care less at this point. He lashed out with his baton, cracking across Rick's chin again lightning quick; taking the moment the larger man was disoriented to kick him in the stomach. It was Rick's turn to crash to the floor, much to his six-foot-tall surprise. Knees were pressed onto his shoulders and the baton pressed to his neck sideways, making him lift his chin to stare at the furious blonde over him. The fire and plain murder behind the man's glasses didn't deter Rick's mouth from tugging into a pained grin.
"What the FUCK do you want from me!" Craig nearly screamed, not caring just how loud he'd suddenly gotten for someone trying to stay unnoticed, though it was getting ridiculous.
Rick chuckled, only stopping when pressure was put sharply on his windpipe, "I want you to stay here," he gasped, still amused.
"Bullshit."
"I dunno shit about the stuff we took from y-," Rick was cut off by more pressure on his windpipe.
"You shouldn't have TAKEN it!"
Rick's hands scrambled about for a handhold, both moving to rest right on Craig's hips, slipping behind to grip his ass almost cruelly. The man on top of him made an undignified squeak of surprise, giving Rick enough of an advantage to knock the skinny thief off of him. With only a heavy gasp to catch his breath, he hauled the thief off of the floor to dump him right on the bed. Craig fought back, only succeeding in dropping his baton with colorful words that Rick only understood half of through the smaller man's near-foaming rage.
A twist of his arms and not much effort had Craig sprawling against the mattress for something that brought them both a bit of nostalgia from their last meeting. Once Rick had a tight grip on his new captive's wrists, a boot swung his direction; Rick tightened his grip on Craig's hands, making him relax with a hiss of pain, arching his back at the feeling of his hands being nearly crushed. The millionaire positioning himself between his legs made him try to kick away again, but the death grip on his hands prevented that, making him bite back a howl of pain.
"Now you're going to hear me out, got it? You can keep all of that stuff you stole, I won't turn you in, if you move in here," Rick explained, moving his free hand up Craig's chest, drawing his fingertips across his captive's neck, tracing his collarbones.
Craig flinched away, jutting his chin out defiantly, eyes still flashing with anger, but Rick continued, "You. Are far from what I expected personally. No record, not real motives, and mostly, I didn't expect you to be this goddamn beautiful."
That was just enough for Craig to forget the pain in his hands to buck his hips, attempting to throw the larger man off balance, but he expected it, a large hand laid heavily across Craig's thin hips, pressing him back into the mattress. That large hand began to flip open his lucky pink belt quickly, deftly flipping open the button, unzipping the zipper.
Craig bucked again, growling loud enough to even make Rick hesitate for all of a half-second, "I am NO WOMAN, you vile bastard, get your filthy hands off me!"
Rick's chuckle was low and maddening, "Weren't you the one offering to sleep with me to get out of here, Craig? I'll flip it for you, I'll knock it off if you agree to stay here and take care of the shit you stole properly."
"Over my dead body," Craig hissed, not bluffing in the least.
"Don't plan on all that, Mr. Renshaw," Rick cooed, running his fingers across Craig's very bare length, "Just either making you agree to a very mutually beneficial deal or having my way with you."
Craig struggled again, cock involuntarily twitching, "I said, get your hands off of me!"
"You asked for it," was the reply, the hand on his wrists removed.
The half second that he was released, Craig froze in confusion. It wasn't until a very warm something was around his unwillingly hard length that he remembered he had the use of his hands. His back was arching toward that warm, wet something, fingers curling into the sheets. This was completely unexpected; this man was basically his accidental stalker and held his fate in the balance rather forcibly and now he was between his legs suddenly sucking his cock. The shock faded, Craig's mind still hazed from the sudden sensation, but now he was frantically groping around the bed for his baton in spite of his fuzzy mind.
His body was twisted slightly, frantically groping as best he could while the millionaire held down his hips; an obscene slurp made Craig's back arch backwards with a low moan, "Oohgod—GET OFF!"
Mr. Heathcliff's hummed laughter was very obvious, drawing a bitten back whine from the thief beneath him. Craig's hand connected with his goal with his frantic fumbling; not half a second after his fingers wrapped around the handle of his baton was it cruelly crashing down on the hands around his hips. Rick pulled away with an angry cry, snatching his hands off long enough for Craig to get in a sharp kick to the bulky man's shoulder. Craig watched with more than a little satisfaction as he stumbled backward; the next kick spun him around and another had him face down on the floor.
In a flash, Craig's lucky pink belt was whipped off of his belt loops and he was on the floor, wrapping the pink leather around Mr. Heathcliff's wrists, tightening the buckle behind his back. The stronger man fought back, of course, but Craig was quick and dexterous. Had he been thinking clearly, he might have left as soon as he could, but the struggle had one firm, boxer clad ass grinding against his still very hard cock which left his mind just as hazy as it had been. Rick was uncharacteristically silent in that tense, but brief moment that Craig was trying to decide what to do about it.
Tearing those boxers made the smug bastard jump, Craig noted with more than a little glee; digging his gloved fingers into his tanned skin made him swear, too. In all of his life, the bitter thief never wanted to make anyone hurt more than right this second. A swipe of saliva across his cock again allowed him to be comfortable enough to press the head of his uncomfortably hard erection against the man's entrance.
"H-hey…," the millionaire said, voice unsteady.
Craig's hands steadied him back in place, fingers digging into his hips, after he'd flinched away from the pushing, now the pressure was twofold and Rick inhaled sharply, "What was that about having your way with me, Mr. Heathcliff?"
"Hold on, hold on we can talk about—shitSHIT!"
Craig's mouth quirked into a smug, but strained smile, effectively shutting him up with a sharp push that had Rick swearing sharply, attempting to wriggle away from the smaller man. A hard slap across his ass was a fierce reminder than Craig was completely in control now; arms bound and blunted, gloved scratches across his hips were preventing Rick from getting moving away. The more Craig pushed, the louder Rick started to outright moan. Gritted teeth were the only thing between the open air and the choked groan at the back of Craig's throat, too; he was unused to the tightness, unused to sleeping with anyone at all, regardless of position.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" Rick continued to hiss in pain, forcing himself to breath in short, strangled gasps to try to relax, try to mitigate the unfamiliar, agonizing stretching.
"H-Have it your way!" Craig hissed, groaning at the pulling sensation he initiated.
He nearly pulled all the way out before pushing back in; harder, faster. Rick's neck arched toward the thief with a howl of a hybrid of pain, pleasure, and a touch of shame for plainly being so loud. Craig's gloved hand lashed out, yanking back on the other man's dark hair, burying himself all the way back into him. Rick's back arched statuesque, Craig leaned forward enough so the dark haired man could feel his heavy breath against his ear.
"I-Is this what you wanted, Mr. Heathcliff?" Craig gasped, rocking his hips against the man's ass with a staccato groan.
Rick's eyes were squeezed shut tightly, his brows drawn dramatically downward, "F-hah-uck," he gasped mid-swear, mouth hanging open.
That was not the answer Craig was looking for; he dug his fingers into his hip again, pulling out only to pound back into the maddening tightness several more times. The sounds coming from Rick's throat were guttural and desperate, only encouraging the rough manner that Craig was approaching this very plain fucking with. Every muscle was tense with sensation and a subtle fight for power. Every so often, Rick's hips would attempt to jerk away, only to have Craig yank back on hair, making the bigger man cry out.
Craig moved his hand to Rick's bound wrists, triumphantly caressing the belt that held the man who took everything he'd worked for, "You didn't… fucking… answer!"
Again, there wasn't an answer; Craig let go of the hair, hooking both hands just under the man's hips. He started to thrust into him hard and fast, slamming his cock into him as hard as he dared, so much so that Craig was convinced he would bruise in the morning. Rick's face was buried in the carpet, his gasps punctuated by the occasional sharp moan. Craig swore he heard something through his lust hazed mind that sounded like Rick was begging for the blonde to fuck him.
That knowledge was far more arousing than it should have been; Craig leaned back slightly with a groan, moving nearly subconsciously. He couldn't stop now; that angle changed and suddenly Rick's head jerked back up.
"OHGOD, FUCK ME," he moaned shamelessly now, the sound low and guttural in the back of his throat.
Craig was only too happy to oblige, thrusting at that same angle with pointed and smug pleasure at the way the millionaire thrashed beneath him. Craig's arms were wrapped around Rick's stomach with his fingers hooked together. Every hard thrust had the man pushing his cock toward those gloved hands until Craig unconsciously grabbed it, stroking it with his leather gloved hands.
Rick arched again, spewing near nonsense, "Oh FUCK, oh god, please goddammit, I'm so fucking close! PLEASE."
If Craig weren't in the exact same predicament, he might have asked what the hell Rick was pleading for, but he could only gasp in response, speeding up stroking the length in his hands.
"Mmnghh," Craig moaned through a bitten lip, head tilted back with eyed closed.
The sensation around his cock started to tense up all of a sudden. He opened his eyes with a labored gasp, pushing harder as it got more difficult to thrust into the man beneath him. He wasn't entirely sure what he remembered expecting out of this, but fuck he was about to get something.
"Oh god, oh god, aahn!" Craig leaned forward; lying across Rick's back, groaning loudly into his skin as he came inside of him.
Craig's hands were still moving very quickly across Rick's member; the man was still moaning with his shoulders pressed against the carpet. Craig rocked his hips against him once more, making Rick's neck crane backwards.
"Shit!" he swore.
Craig pulled his hands away and his gloves were covered in that white sticky substance. He stared at his gloves in horror, as if he just realized what he had done. As Rick crumpled to the floor completely, Craig rose to his feet, stumbling toward an obvious bathroom, frantically wiping himself on the bath towels. He had to hold on to the door frame while doing his pants up again, his legs were shaking so bad.
Wide-eyed, Craig stumbled around the room, picking up his baton and muttering to himself about how he had to leave and the excuses why. His school started class tomorrow, he left his oven on, he had an appointment, just whatever would come to his mouth at the time. Somewhere, the part of him that recognized what happened wasn't sure if he should be smug or ashamed. The thief finally deigned to look at the man gasping on the carpet, vainly attempting to follow his trip pacing around his room. That made him make a bee-line for the door faster than anything.
"Wait," Rick gasped, struggling to sit up and look, "Wait, don't… don't leave."
Craig hesitated for a solid ten seconds before striding across the room to unravel his lucky belt from around the man's wrists. The freed hands immediately tried to grab, but Craig was already scurrying out the door without a second thought to Mr. Heathcliff and his offer.