To Trust A Cop

Beta: None as of yet
Warnings: abuse and very hard borderline-noncon lemon
Notes: I know some of you may want to kill me after this chapter… but please realise that such a thing is a crime in most countries and that you’ll never get the finish of this if the author(a.k.a. me) is dead. ;^^


9

After almost one and a half month at this nightclub work, he was starting too… adjust. He wasn’t really getting used to the pounding music, mass of people and the smell, just learned small tricks to stand it.

He’d gotten good with the trays. Trixy said that he was a quick learner. Most people didn’t get as good until months of training. Well, Squall had always had good sense of balance and athletic skills so he wasn’t surprised.

Arriving at the club with bloody knuckles had earned him a quick interrogation from Ben who wanted to know what had happened. Being as good as truthful had earned him a glance over and the big guard had actually gotten something, dared Squall believe it, respectful in his gaze. He’d gotten some short comment of leaving the busting of knuckles to the guards, should it be needed in the nightclub.

The brunet silently and quickly served the young men their drinks. He had given Ben a slight smile at the amused glint in the hard eyes. Just maybe he could appreciate the man and even dare trust him. Squall tried hard to hold onto his train of thoughts so as to not think on his work. That way it would go faster and he would seem unattainable for the customers who otherwise had tended to be very eager to engage in conversation that they hoped would lead somewhere more.

“When do you go off your shift?” One of them asked and snapped Squall back to the reality.

Squall eyed the man. He was probably younger or the same age as Squall. Taller than the brunet, most guys were. Probably an athlete or a construction-site worker or maybe a college student. There was a college in the neighbour though it didn’t have any good reputation.

“Late.” He answered coldly.

“How late?” The man persisted.

Squall had seen him before. He had often gotten stares from the youth but had never been approached before.

“If you’re asking for a date or a fuck, just do so.” He said and put his hand at his hip.

The youth’s friends chuckled and were now intently watching them though two tried keeping up a conversation between them. The youth smiled nervously. He was probably one of these a little shy and easily intimidated guys that fell for group pressure and wanted some easy and timid girlfriend or… boyfriend.

“What about a fuck then?” He grinned while trying to sound cockier than he was. The others encouraged him with words and subtle gazes.

“No, not interested.” Squall answered and walked away.

It had become easier to say no or handle them the more invitations he got. Maybe his acquaintance with a certain cop had helped him to. Hyne knew there was a ravine deep difference between him and others. It made it easier to judge others and know what they went for. The brunet frowned as he continued thinking about the blond.

His body started reacting again at the memories of the earlier evening. Thinking about dark, lusty eyes that threatened to burn holes in him. The brunet gritted his teeth as arousal, that hadn’t quite left him, heated him and made his length ache. He shouldn’t react like this to anyone he wasn’t in a relationship with. Not even his lovers had made this… reactions waken in him. These heated, strong feelings and the violent singing in his body.

He had fooled himself in believing he detested people who fucked around just for the bliss of the act. But seeing how he fell into the category made him change his mind. It wasn’t like someone got hurt. Good sex was good sex after all. No ties or obligations. Just mind numbing pleasure. Though, it didn’t stop him from being pissed at the blond or at himself. Working and being sore all over wasn’t comfortable.

Soon the brunet was reeled back to the table with the youths. This time they all had interest in their eyes. They had probably bullied the light brunet until he called Squall over again.

“A one time life experience couldn’t hurt, could it?” He asked with a soft tone as if trying to coax him and Squall sighed.

“Did you wish to order something?” He asked patiently to try in a very nice way say no.

“If you don’t want to be alone together, I could join.” The youth behind the brunet leered and Squall glared enough to smack the smirk of off the face.

“If you do not intend to order something, do not take up my time.” He said harshly and turned away from them to attend to another table.

Pestering cockroaches. Why couldn’t they take no for an answer? And if they now had to pester him, at least they could do it good. Like a certain blond. Squall frowned. Wait a second. Had he just complimented the cop? He must be tired or inhaled the smell of alcohol to long.

After about half an hour he was called back to the youths. Squall gritted his teeth. Hyne, didn’t they understand the language? He glared down at the man that had called him over, which wasn’t the usual one. The man flickered with his eyes.

“A Red Dragon.” He ordered silently and Squall eyed the others before going for the drink.

The favourite dancer came on the scene and made the public roar and some to stand and whistle. You could get deaf for less. Squall dragged his feet to return. In these kinds of situations, some patriots were more inclined to harass the waiters. Trixy had warned him and advised him to just try and find ways to avoid the front of the crowd if he was uncomfortable with it.

Reluctantly returning to the youths, he had to crawl his way through the crowd and act like some fucking balance dancer in order to get through without dropping the tray. Setting down the drink, his wrist was caught and prevented him to straighten which made the brown headed youth able so almost whisper into his ear.

“I got money if it’d change your mind.” He smiled. Squall glared.

“Let go and stop pestering me.” He said coldly, willing the hand on his wrist to turn to ice.

The softly brown haired youth was relinquishing his hold when the comrade beside him caught Squall’s hand instead.

“Come on pretty. Don’t be so difficult, who knows what that could lead to, huh?” He suggested and Squall redirected his glare.

“Turning down a guy once too much could lead to pretty ugly things. Violent things, you know what I mean?” He leered and his thumb was stroking the back of Squall’s hand.

The threat might have worked at anyone else, except Squall. The pathetic threat wasn’t backed up with either attitude or eyes. Had someone like the blond said that, the brunet might have felt uneasy, right now it just pissed him off. Especially after this day when his blood still hadn’t cooled.

“If you don’t let go and stop bothering me, we’ll see just who will visit the hospital, you know what I mean?” He said darkly.

Genuine uneasiness settled in the grey-green eyes though his hand wasn’t let go. Then the youth covered his wariness with anger and tightened his hold. So threatening a drunk teenager that had his friends around him may not be a clever thing to do.

The other hand was brought to his face and he yerked backwards to avoid it. It made the other smirk as if he had won something.

“If you give me a kiss I might forgive you.” He suggested and Squall fisted his hand.

He raised it, ready to strike the idiot as his wrist was caught. The youth quickly released him and Squall could straighten to look up at Yan, one of the securities.

“Is there any problem here?” He asked with that accented voice and released Squall.

“No.” The obtrusive youth answered though his eyes told Squall a whole different story.

Yan eyed the brunet to get the truth but he shook his head and walked away. Hopefully he would be left alone from now on. At least from those parasites. He got some heated glares from them after that, but they weren’t the first. There had been others who had been rejected and “humiliated” in front of their comrades.

Not long after, Squall could slip to the changing room and crawl out from the tight working clothes. What did Unimas think would happen when he dressed his waiters like whores? He had gotten a locker the second week wish he was grateful for. It was bothersome to have to bike home in his working clothes. Damn cold too.

The lithe body shuddered as he dragged on his still damp clothes. They weren’t especially cold, but coming from the warm bar with its masses of people could make you cold for less. Erratically thoughts returned to the kiss in the rain. He frowned and for what time in the row he didn’t know; he asked himself what about the man had him responding like he did.

Stepping out through the backdoor, Squall stretched and grimased as taut muscles protested. Seemed as if he had gotten a strain or something in his back and in his leg during that fight. That was what you got for doing stupid things like that when the muscles were cold. Though he took a stretch any day over a rape or a beating.

In the dark alley the employees had their different means of getting there. Few had cars or such so it was only the boss’s and some of the security guys cars and Squall’s bike there. He had placed it furthest away and hidden it behind the other vehicles to somewhat protect it from theft.

He was tired. Bone deep tired. He always was in the weekends. Working Saturday night and then a few hours on Sunday before getting up at seven on the Monday… One supposed one shouldn’t put such strains on a body. After unlocking the security chains on his bike and putting them away, he started to take on the helmet.

Suddenly he was grabbed from behind and slammed face first into the wall, helmet clattering to the ground. Squall hissed in anger and tried twisting around, but his hair was fisted and used to hold him face first against the wall. He used his legs instead and succeeded hitting a shin but either it wasn’t hit correctly or he made it to weak to hurt.

“Let the fuck go off me!” He roared and a hand was clamped around his mouth instead.

Damn. Don’t tell him that that grey-green eyed youth had actually been more than just air? He didn’t think there was more than one, though he couldn’t be sure. He was harshly ground into. A hard cock grinding against his ass and the small of his back. Still having his hands free, Squall started flailing and pushing at the wall and clawing the hand on his mouth.

His attacker hissed in pain as he drew blood, but it was retaliated by a painful bite to his ear. It made the youth whimper and he detested the weakness. Still he tried getting an elbow in the side of his attacker. He missed; he hadn’t hoped to hit the target anyway. His ear was let go and Squall stopped his heel to try and hit sensitive toes. The brunet’s legs were spread by a painful kick to one leg.

It made him complain in pain against the hand. That hand forced his head back and almost broke his neck. The spread stance and painful grip made him still with trembling hands against the wall. Fuck! His attacker was breathing somewhat fast too. The youth’s head was spinning in a frantic try to come up with a plan.

His attacker unbuckled a clattering belt and somehow succeeded looping it with one hand. Squall shouted angrily and fought as he felt the belt trying to tug down around his wrist. He was not going to get tried down so easily!

A silent fight issued again. He flailed his hands and for a moment ignored the pain in his neck. Until his assailer shifted grip and this time it was a grip to break his neck for real. Pain made light spots dance in front of his eyes and he whimpered. He became perfectly still and panted harshly. Maybe… life was far more valuable than a little lost pride?

Having subdued him for the time being, the belt easily wrapped around his wrist and brought his hand behind his back. He didn’t know what the man did, but whatever it was made his hand secured behind his back.

Still being locked in the neck hold something round was held up in front of him. The attacker could release is mouth and still keep the hold, which made Squall start to think that this guy knew what he was doing. Not some ass punk teenager with too much booze in his blood then. Someone of the other patriots then? Someone else that had been turned down?

The brunet squirmed what he could hand clenched his jaws so hard they ached as the gagball pressed against his mouth. Who walked around with such a thing anyway? Sure, they could be bought at the club, but would anyone do it just before raping someone? Or was this something the man did on a regular basis?

His ear was bit again, this time just harder for every second his mouth was closed. Hyne, a human couldn’t actually bite through that, could he? But as the pain escalated enough for tears to sting and the whole side feeling inflamed, he reluctantly opened his mouth.

His ear was released and the thing was quickly pressed inside and he gagged at the size. Big enough to make his jaws strain and lips to go thin around it. At last his neck was freed so that the ball could be secured behind his head, harshly. It bit into the sides of his mouth. The brunet quickly started fighting again.

Not being threatened by a broken neck gave him enough reason to fight with every trick he could. His hand at his back was secured enough that he could tug however he wanted, it didn’t get anywhere anyway. The fighting was short lived as his free hand was caught and forced behind his back. The man’s hands were as strong as wises.

Damn it! This man was way too good at this. Well, maybe Squall was to blame too for not crying for help or something else. Pride and all that. The brunet grunted as he was harshly thrust against, driving his own hips into the wall.

Hyne, this wasn’t happening. He was not getting raped now when he all these years had escaped that particular humiliation when being too small and young to truly resist. Why this night off all? When his body already was tired from earlier fighting and sexual frustration? Was it some bad day for “Shiva” or something?

Squall made a frustrated noise as his jacket was dragged down his shoulders and stuck around his bound arms. His t-shirt was tugged up to expose his nipples. He shivered harshly as he was leaned back against the wall and the rough surface made them harden instantly and stand out from his chest. A warm hand stroked his stomach and he sucked it in automatically.

Hot breath steamed over his neck before he was sucked harshly. Squall shouted in complain as he was marked. Heavy hips started to undulate against him and forced his own hips into the wall. The youth tugged angrily at his bound hands and tried getting his footing back, but it was impossible when being smashed between the man and the wall.

The nagging thought in the back of his head started to materialise itself in his conscious whether he wanted it or not. Could this be that man from earlier? That guy he had beaten up? The thought made his stomach tighten painfully. This couldn’t be any of the youths, he had decided. Way too strong and used to the situation. The hands were too big and coarse.

The youth clenched his eyes hard as the warm hands stroked his sides and hips and lit up from him. Hot boiling anger shimmered inside him. That hot anger that so easily came to him when needed. For fighting, for racing, for defending. The anger that had been born from the unfairness fate had gifted him with. His trousers was opened and yanked down together with his briefs over his buttocks.

The brunet made a high, angry complaint at his handling and fought even more. He was not getting raped! That’s it! It was a fact. His attacker just fisted his hair and held him against the wall, face up, during his tantrum. Bastard! At least give him a chance to fight instead of cowardly sneaking up from behind!

The man let him get some footing, but it resulted in his pants riding lower. The brunet shouted angrily again as a warm hand splayed over his ass. A finger was worked in between his tight buttocks and stroked the puckered hole there. The hand went lower, between his legs to cup his balls and fondle them. He complained and tried closing his legs now when he had his footing.

It didn’t make any difference. Only making his pants fall down around his knees before he could stop them by spreading his legs some. The hand travelled to his flaccid cock instead. Squall didn’t know what to expect, never having endured a rape before, but the gentle coaxing and tugging was something he had not expected. It was more horrifying than pain had been.

The hand withdrew and stroked its way up his back, only skipping over the jacket. The rough palm dragged over his erect nipples. Massaging them with the meaty part of the palm before fingering them. Fingers dragged in them, rolled them with thumb and between thumb and fingers. Teased them until they couldn’t help but be sensitized and make his skin tingle with every feathery touched that was granted from time to time.

Why didn’t the fucker just get on with it? So it was over and Squall was let go. Then he could start to extract revenge.

The hand travelled down between his legs and the youth tensed. He was cupped and weighted in the hand. Then fingers started to tease the limp flesh. Why? What rapist wanted the victim to enjoy themselves? Wasn’t a rape a sort of way for the criminal to get a power kick or something?

Squall shouted again and squirmed and kicked, mindless of his pants getting stuck around his ankles. It didn’t make the man cut off his attention to the flaccid member. The youth complained loudly as his neck was licked and nibbled. A clothed crotch was ground into his naked ass. His hair was let go and that hand cupped his balls. Fondling them and tugging lightly in them. Heavy hips continued grinding into him.

Was it really that thug from earlier? Did he want to make a point? Squall could imagine the brute being of that sort. The rapist let up from him and let go of his lightly swollen cock.

The brunet was breathing harshly, his heart beating insanely. This wasn’t happening. His hips were dragged more from the wall and he was forced to bend forward with his face against the wall. It fucked up his balance again and forced him to trust the attacker not to let him fall. He could make out the darker shadow of the man in the corner of his eye, but not much more.

A zipper could be heard and a soft groan in pleasure. The youth clenched eyes and jaws hard as the engorged cock was rested against his cold buttocks. Large hands was massaging and playing with the round globes. Bending them open and grinding that warm flesh in the cleft.

The brunet clenched his teeth hard, expecting the bastard to enter him. Spit dropped between his buttocks and the cock smeared it around. It confused him, even more as more spit was landed and made it all slick. He hissed as the blunt head nudged opening and pressed just hard enough to tease it. But it withdrew.

Squall hissed as a finger entered him harshly. He tried clenching and pushing the intruder out, of course it didn’t have the effect he wanted. It was rolled around before thrusting in and out. A second finger was added. Why? Why was he prepared?

Maybe because it made it sweeter for the rapist? The fingers worked back and forth a couple times before delving deeper and driving into a certain spot. It made Squall open his eyes wide. He inhaled sharply as that spot was trust into a couple more times. As it was nudged again and then stroked he knew for sure it wasn’t a flux.

Squall twisted and hissed angrily as the brute fisted his swollen cock too. The rapist started to then mercilessly rub him and stroke him. Teeth gnawed at his shoulder and neck. The brunet growled almost desperately, ashamed that his body could find pleasure in a violation. It was supposed to be impossible. He started fighting again as his body got the notion of the pleasure being forced at him.

This wasn’t supposed to be able to happen! A third finger was forced inside of him and Squall closed his eyes against the stretching sensation. His breathing was fast and his face heated. The man descended behind him. Mouth working its way over his back down to his buttocks and there gnawed and sucked at them.

His breathing hitched in his throat and he closed his eyes hard at the swipe of a tongue around his stretched anus. Again and his heart beat a little harder. No, please. Just rape him and get it over with. Don’t play and make him like it. He had thought such a thing was impossible.

Still he couldn’t ignore the onslaught of sensations. Rubbing, stroking and now licking. Made him start to wonder if he didn’t know the assailant. A stranger would want him pleasured, right? Was it… that tentative youth then? Who had been bullied by his comrades to talk to Squall?

Four fingers were slammed into him and he whimpered, that was a little too much. Mouth and tongue sucked and licked the stretched edges of his hole. It made him shudder and breath hard. His cock swelled hard in the still stroking warm fist. This wasn’t true. This was beyond humiliation. He couldn’t like being raped, could he? Then again, the body was a body and nothing had really hurt yet.

His cock was held and his spot mercilessly attacked. It made a little noise escape him and he didn’t realise he moved into the hand around his cock until the bastard chuckled and straightened behind him.

“A rape is supposed to be a violation of will and body. You’re not supposed to want it like a horny bitch.” The man murmured in his ear.

Squall’s eyes widened and almost bulged from the sockets. he roared in rage and his hair was fisted and he started fighting in a rage induced tantrum. Bastard of a cop! He was dead! So dead he didn’t know of it! Four fingers and palm was hit inside him hard enough to lift him a little from the ground. It made his breathing hitch and a sound of pain press out of him.

The blond started thrust his fingers and palm back and forth until Squall was still and complaining. His shoulder was gripped instead and the hand pressed up inside of him slowly. The youth made a noise in pain as the thumb seemed to add to the torment. Hyne, that hurt.

“No wonder people want to fuck you willingly or not. It is practically written slut in your forehead.” Almasy growled and licked his jaw.

Squall half complained in pain and pleasure as his cock was fisted again. The anger started to subside and he wanted it back. But somewhere in his mind he had pictured this. Either stupid hope or calculated facts. That it would be someone he knew and not a stranger defiling his body.

The hand withdrew and only four fingers stayed to torment him as his cock was stroked hard and slow. Arousal started to grow in him. Pleasure had been there before, but something had been missing. That which had been missing, was now starting to wake up. It made him moan as the clever cop thrust a little harder and fingered the sensitive head of his cock.

“Your ass is crying for a cock to fill it. To bad it wasn’t those kids eh? Five energized youths should have given you a good, hard riding. It would have sated even your appetite for cock, yes?” The cop murmured in his ear with such a rough voice it sounded like a growling.

It made the brunet moan lightly and his cock throb. In the back of his head he knew this was so wrong. Something screamed angrily inside of him, but right now lust was clouding it. When he had taken care of the ache in his twitching cock he would listen to that wise voice. But not right now.

The hand was withdrawn and the fingers massaged the edges of his anus. It made him moan and the hole to strain and ache. A strange overriding sensation that he couldn’t put in the scale of pleasure or pain.

“This hole is gaping wide for a cock to stuff it. Do you want it? Daddy’s big cock?” the cop growled and Squall moaned helplessly.

His body shivered and his head felt light. His cock was let go in favour to grip his shoulder. The fingers disappeared and wrapped around his hips instead. The blunt cock head traced the cleft and pushed at his hole. He screamed against the gag as the big thing ploughed inside. So hard and big it made his ass strain painfully. The cop pushed inside fully and groaned deeply.

“If I’d known you liked being raped so much, I wouldn’t have stopped them. Maybe I’ll take you to “Red satin” and have you perform on stage, would you like that?” Almasy growled and pushed in and out a little.

Squall protested against the gag but was effectively silenced by the first thrust. He moaned pitifully at the movement. It was though at first, without lube and the girth of that thing. It hurt and still he moaned and shuddered in pleasure. How sick could he be? How low could he sink?

As the cop started to ram away on him, Squall wondered if he would have reacted like this to a real rape. The cop knew his sweet spots after all. Knew how to angle that cock to hit home with every thrust. The brunet whimpered between the moans as his cock was fisted and slowly stroked again. He shuddered harshly as his earlobe was assaulted.

“You’re a hypocrite, school-boy. Making such a fuss every time I want to fuck you, but you gladly spread your legs for a rapist?” The blond hissed and Squall howled angrily.

He tried telling the cop to piss off and die, but it didn’t really sound right around the gag. Suddenly the large manhood left him and the blond crouched down. Even as he was free from restraining hands, the brunet couldn’t straighten from the wall because he didn’t have the balance. Squall jumped as sharp teeth bit his buttock. Seifer wanted him to lift his leg so he could slip of the trousers, but Squall stubbornly steeled his legs.

His body was raging. His cock pulsing between his legs and his heart and breathing erratic. Knowing his attacker, the small fear had disappeared and been replaced by anger and violent arousal. Nothing he would ever admit of course. He was bitten again hard enough to make him whimper.

“Be a good slut and lift that lovely leg.” Seifer purred.

Squall snorted. Hell no. He could imagine the dangerous smirk on the cop’s face. The man straightened.

“Always stubborn, huh? Bitches should know when they’re supposed to just get down on all fours.” Seifer growled hoarsely.

Squall whined as a harsh smack landed to his ass. The cop set to furiously spank him. Hard and loud and seemingly not caring about the loud smacks and howls from his victim. His cock was suddenly stroked rapidly. Then he was spanked again. Then stroked. And then spanked harder. It continued until he was a shaking, aroused mess. Heart erratic, breathing harsh, body quivering and brain swimming.

Hyne, this man knew what he was doing. Four fingers were worked inside of him and it made him moan and his eyes flutter close. He was softly stroked and teased until he was moving back against the fingers and couldn’t think straight. He hated it. Hated the man able to turn his whole body into heated lava. Hated how he so easily surrendered to those hands and moulded like wax in them.

“Be a good boy-toy and I’ll give you something big and hard in this clenching little hole.” The blond murmured in his ear.

The tip of a tongue teased the rim of it and made him whimper. When the cop yet again crouched down and encouraged him to lift his leg, Squall only hesitated for a moment. It was futile to fight to man and his own body at the same time.

His trousers were dragged off over his shoes, leaving him almost naked part from the jacket and shirt stuck around his arms. The brunet’s hair was fisted and he was helped up to a straight position. Turning around, he could hardly make out the man’s features, but recognised him nonetheless.

“Relax.” Was the only order as his leg was hoisted and the other large hand harshly cupped his buttock.

Squall made an embarrassing yelp and struggled anyway as he suddenly left the ground. He was harshly hit against the wall, more because of his instinctive fighting than the blond’s incapability. Still his legs were both lifted and his knees rested in the hook of strong arms.

“Told you to relax.” The man grunted.

Squall glared silently, but shouted as he was harshly rammed by the big cock. The cop grunted in strain and had to work to get the cock deeper. Squall whimpered in hurt.

“Relax.” The man grunted and shifted grip somewhat to hold him better against the wall.

How was Squall to relax suspended in the air with his hands bound and no means to brace himself? Him tensing resulted in the big cock just hurting him. He knew this and still couldn’t relax. Heated lips latched onto his throat and sucked. His buttocks were massaged in the secured grips.

“You’re not heavy enough to drop.” Almasy murmured against his ear before sucking at the lobe of it.

The man moved his hips back and forth, forcing the cock in and out. Squall and Seifer moaned deeply as the brunet succeeded in relaxing and letting the man in. They both groaned and moaned as the big member easily though slowly glided the whole way inside. Squall panted at the stretching sensation. It sent spikes of pleasure through him.

“Good boy.” The man praised and Squall glared at him in the darkness.

He huffed at the first thrust. It didn’t take long for Seifer to find the right angel and then slowly pick up the pace. They were panting and grunting and moaning. Flesh slapped flesh in a steady rhythm. The brunet was driven closer and closer, higher towards his peak with every heavenly ramming.

Squall clenched his eyes. His body was getting ready to explode. It felt as if his veins were ready to pop, as if he didn’t get enough air. He arched and hit his head against the wall hard, but barely felt the pain.

Seifer suddenly lodged the cock in him and released one leg. Squall hooked it around the man’s waist. The gag was taken of and he worked his jaws. The brunet was ready to tell the cop what a bastard he was, but his mouth was invaded by a demanding tongue. The harsh kiss forced his head against the wall and he thought the cop’s tongue would go down his throat. The same hand found his bound hands.

“Beg.” The man harshly ordered against his lips.

“Fuck you.” Squall panted not ready to give in so much to the blond.

He was suddenly let down and only a painful grip around his arm prevented him from falling on his ass. He was placed with his side against the wall, so that when his left leg was raised in the air, his whole body leaned against the wall. His foot was stuck at the man’s shoulder and the hands held his thigh.

He was thrust inside off again and the position made him moan helplessly with the thrusts. He was worked to his peak again. The blond had started moaning in away that spoke of his release. The cock was lodged inside of him again. The man was panting badly.

“I’m going to leave you behind, unless you use your hands.” The blond threatened hoarsely.

“Bastard.” Squall hissed but only received a chuckle.

They were silent and panting for awhile. Squall mulling over his dilemma and gnawing on his bottom lip. Fuck it.

“Please, release my hands.” He said lowly and the cop chuckled.

But his hands were released and he quickly fisted himself. Moaning deeply at the satisfying touch. The blond started fucking him again. The pleasure burned him like a living thing, making his body tense hard and quiver.

“Harder.” He whimpered and panted.

The brunet cried out at the suddenly fast and hard pace. His hand rapidly stroked himself. Thanks to it he was clenching hard around the manhood, making him feel every little inch of it.

It flashed behind his eyes and he cried out as his body violently exploded. White fluids sullied the wall and ground and his whole body shook and quivered. Seifer was groaning and gripping his thigh painfully during his own release.

When they was both finished, Squall was let down. Both shivering. Squall hitched at his breath as he was pressed back against the wall with one arm of the cop on either side of him. He was kissed much soften than in the throes of sex, still the domination was there. Their tongues played at the blond’s will and he had to accept the probing and exploring of the invader.

When their breathing had calmed and their bodies had regained strength, Squall placed a sudden fist in the man’s stomach. Seifer huffed harshly and doubled over, obviously not prepared for the attack. The youth easily walked away and picked up his discarded clothes and corrected his shirt and jacket.

He had to take of his shoes to get the trousers back on. How the blond had succeeded in taking them of in the first place was a mystery to him. His hands were shaking in raising anger. How had the cop found him? He refused to believe in coincidence, though some part of him hoped it was. He didn’t want to go down the alley of dark emotions inside of him.

“That was a little harsh.” The cop complained when he had regained his breath and could straighten even if he had to hold a hand to his stomach.

Squall glared in the darkness while zipping his trousers and then his jacket. He clenched his jaws hard, telling himself to calm down.

“You deserve more, but I’m too tired. Never occurred to you that I though you was someone else?” He dryly hissed.

“Well, that was part of the idea.” The blond muttered.

“Bastard!” Squall hissed.

“Was you afraid you was assaulted and feeling pleasure because of one of those youths?” The cop smirked.

“You… knew about that?” He breathed wide eyed, unable to believe someone would do such a thing deliberately.

“Yeah.” The man lit a cigarette.

“But really, they wouldn’t be able to keep down a little girl even less a feisty kitten like you, not after what I saw today.” Seifer grunted.

Squall didn’t know what to say. The arrogance of the man stunned him in anger. He mounted his bike, half not willing to ask what needed asking.

“How did you find this place anyway?” He asked with controlled anger.

The blond shrugged, “I followed you. I wanted some fun and you would hardly let me in once you got home,” He explained nonchalantly.

The brunet was stunned into silence. Hot fury made his body shake and eyes to glimmer. The bastard. The fucking prick had really done it. Sneaked around and meddled with his private life as if it was his privilege to do so. The cop came closer and leaned into him, leering.

“Or would you have? Want to have some more fun? You don’t really need so much sleep, right?” he purred.

The fist was flying before Squall could think. Instinctive reaction. The hit was so hard it made the bike sway and the cop to fly backwards into the wall. The man groaned in pain and held his face while staggering against the wall. Squall didn’t even feel the red pain from his already bruised knuckles, rage too hot inside of him.

“You better keep away less you want to get hurt.” He growled coldly before putting on his helmet and driving away.

He was angry beyond rationality. It burned inside him and made his hands shake. The bastard had no right to… do that or spying on him. How many times had the man spied on him on his work or wherever else? That thought angered him more than anything else. He wasn’t going to accept the brute anywhere close to himself again.


Author’s Note:
What do you think? Has our blond favourite finally gone too far and is it really the end for their… friendship?
All thoughts and praise or creative flames you can muster is needed and cherished.