| Fic: "Alpha" |
[Oct. 18th, 2007|11:26 am] |
Title: " ALPHA" (1/1)
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Writer: A. Lias
Summary: Jared forgets who's in charge and is in dire need of a little reminder.
Rating: Big Fat R, for Incest, Smut, and Rock Star Behavior.
Warning: Incest, Smut, and Rock Star Behavior. Don't read this if you're not a perv.
Dedication: This is for 'Pup, who requested it via fic challenge and has been very, very patient. I hope it lives up to your hopes, dear heart.
Pairing: Shannon/Jared
Disclaimer: To my knowledge, this didn't happen. I don't own these poppets, more's the pity.
Feedback: Lots of bouquets, please. It helps keep me going, and I write more fanfic when I feel encouraged.
Archive: Anywhere you like--just no direct e-mail links to me, please. I want the story to be enjoyed.
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"Alpha"
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"Jared can't talk right now. He's a little tied up."
So Your Boyfriend--the Tasmanian Devil--gives me his telephone number, a big reeking slur in his thick Irish brogue. Well, it's probably not HIS phone--he's probably crashing somewhere else, passed out drunk somewhere else, etc etc etc. Fuck him and the donkey he rode in on, how did he get this number?
As if you read my thought, you hum a little under your gag. That's right, baby, play innocent. When I finally get around to untying you, you'll tell me he put a microchip in your ass so he can track you. Hell, I'D do that.
I take another couple calls from The Girlfriends. Damned if I can remember their names--I KNOW you don't. Just more cookie-cutter nymphets with silicone tits and vacuum skulls; I don't know why you even bother.
Well, I DO know. I know everything about you, baby bro. I know why you think you've got to suffer so much, and why you really don't have to. I mean, why NOT enjoy a big dinner and a few beers over some football here in our sumptuous hotel room? But I'll never convince you of that, will I? Although I'll try to do my best.
Tomo and Matt had me paged at the airport, so I knew there was a problem before I even found my luggage and a cab. My own fault for not flying in with you and the rest of the band and entourage. Isn't it fucking rich, Jay? We have an ENTOURAGE now, and we don't even know where it came from.
But they're just The Hired Help, and we try to be nice and not say it to their faces, no matter how frustrated we get. They're buds and everything, but It's all about you and me, Jay; none of the rest of it matters.
None of it.
No matter how much you THINK it does. Your career, your movies, your music, your obligations (real or imaginary). I knew I'd have to protect you from the day you were born--from yourself if nobody else. People wonder--sometimes to my face--if I'm jealous of you, since you got all the looks, all the talent, all the fucking everything. But they'll never understand US, will they, Jay?
Sure, you got all that stuff, but I got you. You belong to me. From the first moment I saw you after you were born, I knew you were mine. You knew it, too. You've always known, perceptive little bastard that you are--you knew the real score even before I did.
So Matt and Tomo call me, frantic because you're trashing the shit out of your hotel room. Big fucking deal, I told them--rock stars are supposed to wreck hotel rooms, let Jay have some fun for a change, we can afford it these days. But he NEVER DOES that, they whispered (as if they thought you might overhear them).
What makes these two employees of ours think THEY know you? I'm the only one who really knows you. I know how high-strung you are, Jared, how much you try to hide how fucking SCARED you are sometimes. It's tough for you now--a second album has much higher stakes than the first--how you're telling everyone the band isn't a "vanity project", you're dead serious about it. You don't want to fail--at anything. It's your biggest fear.
But touring is tough--you have to worry about your voice and making it last until the tour is over--and that's easier said than done. When you woke up this morning with your throat swollen and you couldn't talk, you freaked.
Matt and Tomo had the nerve to ask me if I
needed any help with you as we stood in the hall
outside the room and listened to you smashing in the television screen. Even if I didn't do construction work to make ends meet and spend the remaining 16 hours a day pounding on a drum kit, I wouldn't need our employees to calm you down without hurting you.
I've always been physically stronger than you,
although I'm certain your heart and soul could burn
mine up like snowballs on the sun. Matt and Tomo
think the little dop kit I keep in my suitcase (the
one I call "Jared's bag") is full of recreational
drugs, but it really contains the things I need
whenever you get like this. Putting you to bed is
easy, tying you down is even simpler. I have
everything I need, from padded restraints to small
lengths of chain, a nice assortment of gags and
blindfolds.
This is the part of our little sessions together
I like to call the "Chill Out Time". Once I make sure
you can't move a muscle, you're warm enough, safe, and don't need anything else for awhile, I sit beside you on the bed and read until you let me know you're ready to begin loosening up. You can feel my weight on the bed beside you, and you rub your cheek against my hip, comforted by my solid presence. I can't help reaching to stroke your hair; it's growing so fast, it'll be down past your shoulders by Christmas.
I tie you down to keep you from flying apart.
I do it because the world is sometimes too much for you, Jay, my love. It bombards you with so much SHIT, you sometimes need a break from it. So you lie there and I read until you make that little moan in your throat to let me know you're ready for me to begin to let the world in for you again, bit by bit.
And there's my special moan; it's just for me,
part of that language no one is allowed to speak but you and me. Right on time, too; you usually have to be still and quiet a couple of hours before you turn human again.
I put down my magazine and roll over to take you
in my arms. Of course you instantly try to fight me,
but you're not going anywhere, your ankles and wrists tied to the four corners of the bed until you look like a butterfly on a board. You look so beautiful and fuckable like that it hurt my heart to cover you up in all those blankets to keep you from getting chilled.
You snuffle a little, inching my way as much as the chains allow. "How're you doing, baby?" I ask, kissing the tip of your nose.
Another slight snuffle.
I slip beneath the blankets with you, letting you feel my warmth and my skin; I'm as naked as you are, and I like it just as much as you do. I stretch out alongside you, pressing my body against yours. Nobody will ever feel as good to us as we do for each other; we know this. We don't care what the rest of the world might think, we know this togetherness is true and right and perfect.
You tilt your head back, offering me your throat. How can I resist kissing and nibbling on that sweet soft column of flesh between your chin and your shoulders. Gawd, I understand vampires--I could sink my teeth into you and eat you alive right now, baby brother.
I'm so sorry for dawdling in Houston when you needed me in Dallas. I should've thought about you instead of running around the city trying to find some stupid drum skins. I shouldn't have trusted Matt and Tomo to take care of you; they 're great guys but they aren't family and nobody can ever be as close to you as I can.
Family means having a pecking order, and everyone in the family is happiest when they understand and live within that pecking order. We live as much like wolves as those two dumb dogs of yours, Judas and Lucifer, and I'm the alpha male--just as Judas is. Lucifer is like you; he knows he's gorgeous and he likes to pretend he's in charge--but Judas can flip him over with his paw and mount him like a bitch whenever Lucifer forgets his place.
You forgot your place today, Jay. You shouted at Matt and Tomo when they were only trying to talk you to into stopping your tantrum. They knew you needed to rest, and even though you'll never admit it, you did, too. Lucifer isn't allowed to howl at other dogs in the neighborhood--only Judas may raise his hackles and yodel his heart out as he pleases. Silly Lucifer, he'll never be the big dog as long as Judas lives.
It's time for me to set you back where you belong, Jared. Where we both know you like to be. Time to present your ass for the alpha male's pleasure, pretty puppy.
When I'm ready to remove your gag, we can talk some more--if you like--about what a shitty night you had and what a bastard I am for staying behind in Houston and leaving you alone. That's fine. But it'll be when I'M ready. It'll be when I've made you think twice about howling out loud when the big dog isn't around to look after you.
Sometimes I wonder if you do things like deliberately--just so I'll have to exert my dominance over you again.
"Why did you yell at Tomo and Matt, honey? They didn't deserve that. We're lucky they didn't walk out on us. THEN where would we be on this tour?"
A slight, regretful sniff.
"And now you've made me do THIS to you. You think I like tying you down?"
You nod. Well, so much for lying to you.
I feel so tender toward you in moments like this, love you so much it hurts. I've been all over the world now, and I've never seen anything half as beautiful as you. It's not just how you look, it's who you are, and what you are to me. Do you have any idea how much I love you, Jared?
You press your face against my chest. You kill me when you do that. It makes me fist my fingers into your hair and hold your head until you can't move it at all, then kiss you until my lips are chapped. I resolve to kiss every inch of your body, so I'm going to be awhile at this, sorry, baby.
Of course you're impatient for more fireworks by the time I lightly chew my way down to your nipples. I've always loved your nipples, Jay. Sweetest things in the history of the creation. And the way you respond when I suck them, arching upwards to me and throwing your head back--instant surrender and I'm more than thrilled to accept it. But you've been a bad boy, showing your temper at the hired help when they didn't have it coming, so you aren't getting your rocks off anytime in the very near future.
I cup your erection as I continue to run my tongue around the little aureola around your nipples, making tiny circles, occasionally flicking the hard buds with my tongue. You're hard already, my love, I bet you could fuck a tree right now.
You mewl a bit under your gag. You are truly The Irrestible Force of the Universe, Jay, bucking your narrow hips toward me, begging me to shake some action. Don't be so impatient; this is going to be on my terms--it's too bad I have to remind you of that every now and then. Not that I'm complaining, mind you; you look so damned hot like this.
I like to stroke as I kiss, running my hands all over your soft feverish skin from your wrists down your ribs and flanks to your toes. I can hear you sobbing under your gag, impatient brat. You'll get no mercy from me.
Speaking of no mercy, what is it with you and YBTD (Your Boyfriend the Tasmanian Devil)? He's cute, but he just impresses me as this raving, panting, drooling, slobbering tornado who takes one look at you and makes this flying tackle as a prelude to savaging and ravaging. Hell, you've still got his teethmarks in your shoulder where he bit you to hold you in place for mad rutting. But then again, Jay, I know what a slutty boy you are; you like lots of huge tireless cock, so Colin is made to order in that department. But does he hold you in his arms afterward like I do or does he just roll over and start snoring? Would he take a bullet for you like I would?
I touch your blindfold--it's soggy and wet with your tears. I fall for it every time; you've got me wrapped around your little finger. You want to be fucked now, and my determination to make you wait for it is dwindling as my dick continues to swell. Another whimper from you and I give up on torturing you any longer; it's okay, baby, I'll take care of you, I always do.
The hotel has a well-stocked sundries shop, so I stopped for some KY Jelly and beer before I came up to save Matt and Tomo from The Terrifying Wrath of Jared. The band saw the beer, but not the KY--THAT I'd stuck in my back pocket. I get it now, and you lift your handsome head in anticipation. It's all right, love, everything's going to be all right.
So I grease up my middle finger and slip it in. Gawd, baby, always so hot and so very, very snug. You always feel like a fucking virgin, no matter how many times I fuck you, and it seems that YBTD can drill you silly with that baseball bat he calls a 'dooley' and you're still too tight.
Another finger, then another, and you're still clenched. Relax for me, angel, let's make this easier for both of us, okay? It'd kill me if I ever hurt you.
"Shhhhh," I whisper into your ear. "Shhhhh."
You just give me this strangled cry and thrust your hips. All good things come to they who wait, babe, and this is no exception. I release the ties around your ankles so I can move your legs to position you better; I like it face to face with you.
You're quivering like a bowstring by the time I annoint myself with the KY, slip a pillow under your bottom, and slide on in to home.
I could explore the entire universe and never find a better, hotter fuck than you, Jay. You make me explode inside from my cranium to my cock; we're one raw exposed nerve together. I could do it just looking at you like this.
Maybe YBTD is going to be a permanent part of our lives from now on, maybe not--he acts like he's here to stay. But have you told him about US, JJ? What will he say when he finds out? Will he walk like Whatzername did? Shit, knowing that Irish hurricane, he'll probably think it's hot as Hell and want to dive right in with us. You don't seem worried about it, so why should I be, right? Looks like I'll just have to trust your judgement again on this one.
You feel as though you were made just for me, baby; I could spend the rest of my life between your legs. I love the way you respond to me, the way you grip me and milk me dry, the way you tremble when you come onto my belly as I fist you hard.
It takes me a few seconds to come back to myself; I've blown like Mount Vesuvius. Is it my imagination or do you just become a better fuck every time we're together?
You're as boneless as a ragdoll when I undo the slipknots and hasps and let the chains fall to the floor, but you curl into my arms and press against me, still sobbing.
I remove the blindfold and gag, gathering you up to my chest, my arms and legs enfolding you. We both needed that release so bad, we need each other so bad.
I just lie still and wait for you to cry yourself to sleep, stroking your hair and kissing your forehead, whispering over and over how much I love you. But my words are so fucking pathetic; I can't tell you--I always have to show you, and I'll do it again and again, as many times as it takes.
You'll apologize to Tomo and Matt in the morning, and they'll be nice and accept it. They're friends, as well as employees, after all. And I promise to be better to you, to think of you first like I should have done yesterday.
"Forgive me, Jay?"
You're already asleep, but you cuddle close to me, stealing my body heat and taking comfort from it, and once again, all is right with the world.
"I love you, Shannon."
You say the words even in your sleep. I love it when you do that. You know it's me beside you. Always me. The alpha male, the big brother, the man who adores you beyond everything else in the world.
"And I love you, Jared. Sleep now, baby. I'm here."
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--Story is done now--why are you still hanging around?--
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all work and no play makes jill a dull girl all work and no play makes jill a dull girl all work and no play makes jill a dull girl |
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