fic: Where Are You Going [14/?]

[rhianon76]

Dom’s Reflections
Take what you need, take what you need from me.
~The Goo Goo Dolls, “Stay With You”

Brian’s lips go still against my neck.  He lifts his head in fractions, as if forcing himself away.  Eyes hooded, dazed.  Unfocused.  My entire body tingles at that expression of lust.  Wonder how far back in time those feelings reach, the ones I can see exposed.

I have to swallow and lick my lips in order to form words.  “Shot glasses.  Two of them.  One of ‘em’s Campo.  Saw him come out of the room.”

“And the other?”

“Whoever was with him.”

Brian’s hands tighten on my neck, thumbs sliding along my jaw.  “How’d you know?”

“Saw where you went.”  Would have narrowed my eyes at the blonde, but I figure it wouldn’t have quite the impact I want just then.  “Might not have a badge but I ain’t stupid.”

Brian’s touch falls away, head comes up sharply.  “Never thought you were.”  He crams his hands back into his pockets.  Makes his jeans ride down even further.  “I should take them back to the field office.  Get them to start running the prints.  It’ll take a while.”  Lips twist into a grimace.  Gaze wandering everywhere to avoid looking me in the face.

Unless there’s something really interesting crouching on the roof of the Chevelle or something?  I got no idea what just happened any more than Brian does.  Run a thumb along the hip bone jutting against my palm.  Brian exhales slowly, eyes widening.  But he looks at me.  So I lean in and drag my lips over Brian’s mouth, grinning.  “Better now?”

“It’s relative.”  Brian’s voice is husky, words formed slowly.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh.”

“How’s that work.”  I trail my mouth over to the line of Brian’s jaw and drag my teeth over the day’s growth of stubble.  The blonde’s head moves like his neck muscles just lose all rigidity.  Surprises me.  Once was a coincidence, but this…  Forming coherent thoughts is difficult when Brian makes some kind of noise in the back of his throat every time I put my teeth to the man’s skin.  When the heavy erection hiding in denim twitches every time I sink my teeth in and bite down.  “Like that?”  Redundant question, but my brain cells aren’t firing in any kind of logical order.

Brian’s response is a growl and a long-fingered hand clamping down on the back of my head.  Not holding, but definitely encouraging.  “Talk too much,” Brain comments, half distracted, panting again, obviously not aware of the words that he’s forming.

Because really?  Me and chatty don’t belong in the same sentence.  I smile against Brian’s neck, glad I succeeded in short circuiting a few connections in that too-quick head.  Might not be talkative, but that don’t mean I can’t use my mouth.

And I’m definitely eager to use my mouth.  Brian’s skin tastes like musk and salt, smells faintly of the ocean.  Does he still surf?  Slide a hand up Brian’s side, over his ribs, imagine all that smooth warm flesh bare to the sun, wet and glistening and tasting of salt and brine and Brian.

I growl and bite down hard just above the man’s collarbone, slide my hand around to grab Brian’s ass.  Just enough to anchor, to grind my hips forward, give us both some friction.  If Brian gets me any more aroused, I might go blind or something.  Sensory overload.  Do it to a computer and you fry the circuits.  I expect sparks to start flying off my skin any minute now.

And then Brian slides his tongue along the rim of my ear, sucks the lobe into his mouth, and I really do go blind.  Well, close my eyes, but I ain’t seeing anything anyways.  All I can feel are the waves of heat and pleasure radiating from every point of contact, no matter how small.  Washing down through me, fingers tingling, hands shaking, and damn my cock hasn’t been this hard since I was a hormone-driven eighteen-year-old.  Rock my hips forward, hard, hissing in a ragged lungful of air through the filter of Brian’s scent, rolling off his skin like an aphrodisiac.

Damn, the man should be a controlled substance.

Because there’s a distinct possibility that some of this is due to general sexual frustration.  But not all of it.  Not this intensity, this level of reaction.  This fed off the chemistry that always flowed between us, from the moment our eyes locked in the diner.

My weight shifts, Brian pushing against me.  Hands guiding me backward.  Solid steel beneath my ass, and I let my quivering muscles give out finally, pull Brain forward, into me, not caring if the hood dents under our weight as I fell backward with the blonde on top of me, mouths fused together suddenly, mashing lips and teeth, tongues entwined, tangled, tasting, thrusting, Brian’s groin grinding down into mine.

I growl so long and low that I can feel the sound vibrate through Brian in my hands, and the man writhes against me like he’s overdosed on pheromones.  It’s too much.  And not enough.

Brian pulls back slightly; warm fingers fumbling with my fly, brush against my abdomen.  I lift my head and nip the man’s flushed lower lip between my teeth, suck on the flesh to get more of Brian’s taste.  Addicting.

“Fuck.  Wanna taste you.”

I grunt, body going limp.  Head thumps back onto the hood.  “Sneak across the border.  Back in town a week.  Gonna get hauled in for indecent exposure.”  Have to laugh, then, as Brian’s deft fingers expose my groin to the night air.  Hiss at the relief of pressure on my too-hard cock.

Brian looks up from focusing on his hands.  Eyes glazed with lust and sensation, no trace of that ‘cop’ mask.  “Talking too much.”  His fingers – god, those beautiful fingers that I’ve stared at, watched handle tools so often, so long ago – wrap around my shaft.

I take a long, deep breath.  Grab the back of Brian’s neck with one hand and trail the fingers of my other over those flushed, kiss-swollen lips.  “You’re the only one who thinks so.”

Brian’s gaze flicks up, taking in our surroundings quickly.  “Yep. I’m the only one here.”  I stare at those lips as they curl into a smile.  And then slowly, so slowly it’s like he’s flexing a cramped muscle that hasn’t been used in forever, Brian’s smile transforms into one of those thousand-watt creatures that I recall so well.
Can’t help but smile back, eyes hooded as Brian slides his body down mine.  Prop myself up on my elbows, but not sure what holds me up when the moist heat of Brian’s tongue swirls around the head of my dick.  The tip of his tongue teasing the slit, lips clamping onto my glans, sucking up the pre-cum.

Doesn’t take much to push me over the edge.  Just seeing Brian’s fingers encircling me, feeling his grip, the damp heat of his mouth, is enough to do it.  My entire body tenses, abdominal muscles standing up in stark relief, thighs clenching like a vise onto Brian’s broad shoulders.  Brian swallows as my cock twitches, and every nerve ending in my body tingles, like an engine punched with NOS.  Hips jerk up off the hood, body clenching as the orgasm rolls over me, wave after wave that won’t stop, and the world goes black.

Hear the thud of my body against the hood as if it’s happening to someone else.  Hardly feel the ache in the back of my head.  Can’t move if I wanted to.  Brian’s weight slides back up my body, and I don’t feel the slightest desire to move.  Lips brush my mouth, tongue tracing the gapped space between, and then I have to remind myself to breathe through my nose because Brian’s invading me, the tang of cum lacing the man’s intoxicating flavor.  And I want all of it.

Want Brian, and nothing else matters.

Nothing at all.

Brian pulls back, mouth hovering a breath away.  Hooded night-dark gaze studying me, satisfied twist to his lips.  “Now you can talk.”

“Can’t.”  Panting, grinning.

“That works too.”

Lift my hands, god my arms are heavy, run fingers up the back of Brian’s head, through his short-cropped head.  Watch those eyes slide shut the rest of the way, head cant sideways, pushing into the caress as my thumbs run over Brian’s temples.  Hair stands up every which way.  I run my hands down and do it again.  “Miss the curls.”

“Do you,” slips out in between moans, an octave lower than Brian’s normal voice.

“Yeah.  Used to look like a halo.  Sun-bleached gold.”  Twenty percent angel, eighty percent devil.  Easier to talk now, to breathe.  Heart not trying to hammer its way out of my chest between my ribs.

Brian’s full weight presses into me, but it’s not uncomfortable.  The way the corner of the man’s mouth twitches when I talk, it does something to me.  Doesn’t even matter that the Chevelle’s hood doesn’t make a very soft mattress.  Even if I’m getting old and my back doesn’t think too highly of the arrangement.

“Yeah well… I’m more devil than angel, Dominic Toretto.”

Oh, god.  I bang my head back on the hood, stare up at the night sky and laugh, fingers moving slowly over Brian’s scalp.  Loving the feel of the soft, short nap; reminds me of chenille.  Silken animal pelt.

Brian shifts his weight, emits some vague sound, runs his fingertips over my scalp.  Can feel the chafe of invisible stubble between our skin.  Love the vibration of laughter echoing into Brian’s body.  The scent of sex and musk clinging to the air around us.  He rolls off to flop onto the hood on his back, stretched out beside me.  Pulls his heels up and props them on the bumper.

“I’ll keep them off you as much as I can, but they’re gonna be watching Mia.  And the house.”

Doesn’t even notice that he says “they”, not “we”, I think.  One thing I never had cause to question, Brian’s loyalty.  It was mine from the first.  Frightening, if I think about it too much.

“I’ll be fine, Bri,” because the man seems to need me to say it.

“Yeah.”  He sits up and slides forward off the hood, those barely-there sneakers silent against the ground.  “I know.  Knew it then, too.  Was the only thing that gave me the strength to walk away,” standing with his back to me, cramming them hands back in his pockets.  Shoulders too straight.  Spine like a rod.  Putting that fucking mask back on.

I push up off the hood, reaching out to snag the man by a belt loop before he can go haring off.  Plant my lug-soled boots on the ground and bodily drag Brian back toward me.  “Don’t.”

Brian stares.  Face looks so harsh, cheeks sunken, making the bones stand out.  “Don’t?”

I growl and hold his gaze.

The blank look melts away in increments, flush crawling up the fine complexion of his neck toward his face.  Eyes glance away, over his shoulder, staring at nothing.

Comments

[epona34.livejournal.com]

Hot chapter. Would like to read more but the link to part 15 doesn't seem to work...

[rhianon76.livejournal.com]

Ah, so very sorry about that. It's working now, promise! :)

[psychox.livejournal.com]

I like the fragmented narration. Somehow it grants everything with an immediate urgency. That helps because I've never seen the movies and have no clue about either of these two characters. But it manages to keep me interested. I'm also impressed by your ability to write 1st person POV. The viewpoint character leaves a strong impression.

"Because really? Me and chatty don’t belong in the same sentence..." - That paragraph seems to break character. He doesn't talk much, but he introspects at length about a small detail?

"Do it to a computer and you fry the circuits." - That line seems a little out of place. There are a few instances where an extra metaphor gets thrown in or there's a lingering comment placed on something small. Those instances kind of disrupt the flow of the narration.

"Twenty percent angel, eighty percent devil." - It's a little redundant since the "I’m more devil than angel" line comes up later. I think I prefer it as dialogue.

And now, for whatever reason, I keep thinking about this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sl8fS_6KNLY

[rhianon76.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the comments about the pieces that jag. It's appreciated. As "fanfic" it possesses no potential whatsoever -- it's more an exploration and writing exercise than anything else. Granted, a really long one but *shrugs*

The 1st-person angle can be a very difficult one not to break out of. I think that one of the reasons I chose to do it this way was simply because it makes for good practice. =D General writing muscle flexing, but Black's story is told this way as well. And the language and sentence structure fragmentation in this -- I think that goes a long way toward conveying Vin Diesel's character of Dominic Toretto as much as anything else does. Food for thought as I edit my way through "Black".

[niciasus.livejournal.com]

Chapter 14, this requires I must start at the beginning. Yes! I do love Dom and Brian.