A strip-poker game with
some specially chosen players.
Our players will be fandom contaminated versions of:
Tom Hobbes, from
Harsh Realm
Mike Pinocchio, from Harsh Realm
Alexei Arntzen Romanov
Krycek, from the X-files
John Crichton, from Farscape
Logan (aka
Wolverine), from the X-men
Richard Sharpe, from Sharpe
As you can likely guess. I don't own any of these guys. I'm just fashioning a
small token. No harm intended.
Late evening
A small bar in what used to be a church
Harsh Realm
A few of the stained glass windows of the former church were still intact giving an indication of what purpose the building used to serve. Nothing remained of the original interior. Pews and the alter had been replaced with tables, chairs, and a long bar years ago. Churches were always a popular building for turning into bars in Harsh Realm because they were usually in the centre of town and their high ceilings allowed smoke and odours an escape route.
This particular bar was quieter tonight than it had been since the world fell into chaos. The barkeeper was wrapped in duct tape and tucked away in one of the building's side rooms. The doors were all barricaded shut from the inside and the fire barrel outside the front portal had been allowed to die out. The building's generator still purred however, using gasoline to power a few lights and the battered sound-system that provided music from the before time for the bar's inhabitants.
Six men in various stages of undress lounged around one of the larger tables in the place. Bowls of nuts, glasses of booze and well-worn cards were scattered over the pitted surface of the table.
"Well... this hand blows." Pinocchio tossed his cards in and pushed back from the table far enough that he could kick off his heavy boots. Tossing them aside so they landed on his jacket and vest, the ex-soldier stood up. "I need a drink." That was as close to a polite offer to the other men something to drink as a man like Mike Pinocchio ever got.
"You'd best get young Tom here as shot. He looks chilled to the bone." The snicker that accompanied the slurred statement was just short of vicious. Logan's arm lifted. One long adamantium claw shot out to nail a card to the table. His teeth bared in a growl. "That one wasn't there a minute ago, Sharpe. You'd best not be planning to slide it into your hand." Wolverine glared at the bare-chested Brit sitting to his right.
"Yer the one marking up the cards, wolf-boy." Richard Sharpe observed coolly. "If anyone's cheating her I'd be inclined ter point the finger in yer direction."
The only piece of clothing that Logan had shed so far was the coat hanging on his chair-back. Sharpe, on the other hand, was stripped down to waist and barefoot, as well.
"It's a friendly game, gentlemen." Alex Krycek succeeded in distracting everyone there by stretching over the wooden expanse and tearing the pinned card loose from Logan's claw. The dark-haired assassin glanced at the object of contention, and then flicked it away into the shadows. "We don't need that one anyway." He turned a seductive smile back on the group. "Logan's right, Mike. Get Tom a drink while you're up. He's chilled."
"I'm fine." It was an obvious lie. Tom Hobbes, clad in only a well-worn pair of white briefs, was shivering and tensed up. He hadn't been expecting the evening's entertainment to be strip poker with a bunch of guys and he'd come clad in only a tee and pants since it was warm out.
Of course, the sixth and last player in the game wasn't in much better shape. John Crichton had arrived wearing a one-piece flight suit, but at least he'd been wearing a thin undershirt beneath it.
Mike Pinocchio returned from the bar to slam down a tall glass filled with amber liquid in front of his partner, Tom. Mike then slid into the creaking chair between Hobbes and Krycek. "What the hell is this stuff, Crichton?" Pinocchio took a sip of his own drink. "It goes down as smooth as warm milk."
The former astronaut who had provided several bottles of the dully-glowing brew shifted in his seat. "You don't want to know, Pinocchio. Don't worry though. Zhaan checked it out. It's safe for human consumption."
Sharpe barked out a laugh. "You'd best not be drinkin' it then, wolf-boy," he taunted. "Yer liable to mutate the rest of the way... and Tommykins already has a dog so he don't need another. Course Alex i'd take you on as a pet. You've a fondness for half-wild curs, doncha Alex-baby?"
"You're the only cur I've fucked so far this year, Dickin," Krycek shot back dryly, earning signs of amusement from most of the men at the table, even Sharpe.
"What happens when we run out of clothes, Mike?" Tom whispered the question out between nervous gulps of his drink.
Crichton was dealing the cards again.
"Then we play for top or bottom, kid." Mike grinned before looking to his left in order to judge how many bits of clothing still covered Krycek. A black t-shirt and boxers obscured the prize Pinocchio was hoping to win this evening.
Hobbes' forehead creased in confusion. "Top or bottom what, Mike?"
Sharpe fanned out his hand. "We play 'til three off you are naked," he explained flatly, not allowing that he might be a loser despite the fact he had just pants and unders on. "Then we pick partners and switch to a different game. Winners fuck the losers."
"WHAT?" Tom's blue eyes widened impossibly.
"Drink up, pretty boy." Logan tapped the bottom of Hobbes' glass. "Not to worry. I'm mopping the floor with these guys."
Tom stared at Wolverine a moment, taking in the other man's rough-hewn appearance, before almost draining his glass."
Lady luck being a fickle woman, the situation was turned all about just a short time later.
Pushed back from the table, bare as the day he was born and swigging from a bottle of rum, Richard Sharpe glowered at Wolverine, Alex and Pinocchio in turn.
Tom Hobbes was bright red in the face despite the glazed sheen over his eyes. He'd drawn his heels up onto his chair to shield his nudity slightly and was in the process of emptying out yet another tall glass of the exotic brew that Crichton had provided.
Confidence shaken by being stripped down to his pants, Pinocchio watched intently as the final cards were exposed. Both Alex and John were a pair of underwear away from nude. Logan, still in his boots, pants and undershirt, was grinning as the last card fell.
Alex's shoulders shrugged indifferently and Crichton blew out an astonished whistle.
"No big deal." Krycek stood up, stretched dramatically, and then slithered out of his boxers in a graceful movement. Alex bent forward to lean on the table and display his sleek form. "So you're the high roller for the night, Logan. Nice case of beginner's luck." Krycek might have been purring. His voice was rich and thick with sensuality.
Pinocchio scowled. He was annoyed that Logan might be tempted to take Alex and also a bit uneasy that Tom might be given into less than gentle hands. The kid had drunk enough to play along without giving trouble but Hobbes was still a relative innocent when compared to the rest of the guys in the room. Bringing Hobbes along might have been a mistake. Maybe it would be best if Logan claimed Alex after all and left Tom to Mike, the man who had initiated Tom into male/male sex.
A smile that was almost pure evil lifted the corner off Wolverine's mouth. The rough looking man surveyed the table, taking in Tom's blushing beauty and Alex's dramatic pose before turning to Richard Sharpe. "So who's the puppy now, bitch? I'll take this one," Logan announced without taking his gaze away from Sharpe's lean form.
"Bloody hell." Richard started to raise, shoulders squared indignantly.
"Don't even think it, Dickin." Alex's languid preening morphed into a pose that reeked of coiled power and danger. "You baulk and you're out of the game forever. We'll all help Logan take you by force tonight, and you won't be allowed back at poker night ever again."
"I didn't say I wouldn't," Sharpe snapped quickly. "But I'm allowed to speak me mind, ain't I?" Light eyes glittered in the low light. Glancing away from the table with a sneer, Richard asked, "Where?"
Logan leaned back, also looking into the shadows. "We'll take the office. We'll be needing some privacy."
Sharpe back up in the direction of the door. "Fine, but don't call me bitch again and it'll go smoother."
"Who said I wanted smooth?" Wolverine laughed and climbed to his feet. "So if you don't like bitch... how about Cyke?" Still sniggering, Logan led the way to the small room.
Once they were gone Alex slipped back into a provocative lounge. "You get next pick, Mike," he prompted softly.
Pinocchio ran a hand up the inside of Alex's leg causing a gravely groan to vibrate Krycek's throat. The temptation was powerful, but Pinocchio couldn't help but look from Hobbes to John Crichton. Mike's eyebrows lifted in an unspoken question.
"I won't hurt him." John rose and walked around the table. Leaning over Hobbes, John ran a fingertip caress up one of Tom's bare arms.
"Oh..." Hobbes moaned, his head falling back to expose his amazed expression to the man bending over him.
"He's beautiful," John observed. A kiss was dropped on Tom's open mouth. "And he's completely blissed out on Derang." The observation was amused. Hobbes was desperately attempting to follow John's mouth with his own as Crichton straightened up.
Licking his lips to savour the taste, John glanced over at the other two men. "He'd let a Luxan fuck him without blinking in surprise right now. Trust me. Been there... done that."
Catching Tom's hand, John pulled the pliable blond close. Hobbes let out a breathy moan and pressed to Crichton. Tom's hands glided over muscular arms and he moaned again. "Oh God, Mi..."
Cutting the name off in mid-syllable, Crichton stole a kiss that left Tom panting when it broke. "John. I'm John. Remember that."
"John," Hobbes repeated blearily. "Okay." He instigated the next kiss.
"There's a mattress over there." Alex gestured vaguely to a raised, darkened section of the expansive room.
The wall that Logan and Sharpe were behind shook as if something had slammed into it. The noises leaking out from under the door were thick and bestial.
"You want that?" Pinocchio asked Alex as they were left alone at the card table.
Krycek chuckled as the plaster rattled again. "Logan picked right. Richard doesn't find a man who can top him very often. They'll both have a good time. Me, I've got what I wanted."
"And if you'd won that last hand?" Pinocchio's fingers wandered over exposed pale skin.
"Loosing is easy," Alex confided softly. "Especially when YOU'RE winning, gorgeous." Sitting up, Krycek grabbed at the waist of Pinocchio's fatigue pants. Latching onto Mike's mouth for kiss, Alex worked at getting the button-fly open. Before it was even halfway undone, Krycek's hand insinuated inside the snug trousers to curve around Mike's cock.
Pinocchio grunted, bucking into the contact. He wrapped one arm around Alex and wove his other hand into the short hair by Alex's ear, pulling. The two men ground together while Mike's pants were gradually opened the rest of the way.
The audiotape that had been filling in the background with guitar-heavy music wound to a halt. In the comparative quiet that fell, the sounds that they and the other two couples were making became more obvious. In the other room plasterboard creaked and shredded under hard metal. Logan was grunting deeply. Up on the dais, Hobbes was panting and whimpering. Sloppy wet noises were interspersed with John moaning and whispering encouragements.
Tom let out one thick, eager moan, louder than all the rest. As if on cue, Pinocchio shuddered and rammed his tongue into Alex's mouth. Krycek sucked briefly than broke away, gasping.
"Now who's regretting his choices?" Alex teased quietly, his mouth working at Mike's jawline. "Should we go up there and share the mattress? I could suck you off while you kiss Tommy's pretty mouth. John would share... if you would."
Pinocchio snarled and dragged Alex off the table. It almost looked as if he was considering the idea for a moment then Mike growled and shoved at Alex's shoulders.
Krycek dropped to his knees. Pinocchio's pants were peeled the rest of the way down, the underwear coming away at the same time. A satisfied hum murmured out of Alex. Lips parted, Krycek leaned in, and warm breath puffed over Mike's groin. Breathing in, Alex began nuzzling at the other man's tight balls. Staring up through heavy lashes at his lover's face, Krycek slowly sucked the hanging flesh into his mouth.
More, almost brutal, thumps rattled the wall. A loud "Shite!" was heard through the thin barrier.
Alex dragged blunt nails over Mike's hips to hold his attention before removing his mouth from Pinocchio's balls. Rocking up a touch, Krycek ran a set of sloppy licks along Mike's erection before clamping his mouth over the head.
"Oh God! Oh John. AHH! Please." Tom's tone was breathlessly eager.
Pinocchio's head turned. Krycek's teeth threatened instantly. Green eyes narrowed in warning.
Swallowing, Mike refocused. "C'mon Alex. Suck me down." A guiding hand settled into Krycek's soft, dark hair. "Nobody sucks cock like you do, Lexi."
Pacified, Alex eased the shaft to the back of his throat and swallowed hard. Mike's legs trembled. He had to lean back against the table. Krycek's head bobbed. The hard flesh slid in and out of his lips, provoking shivers from Pinocchio.
Gasps and groans skittered all about the bar. Alex's were shallow, while Mike's were from deep in his chest. Tom's were faint and quick, as were John's. The ones in the next room were tinged with delicious pain.
Delighted wonder made Tom's voice jump an octave. "What... Oh my God!"
"...just my fingers..." Crichton's entire sentence was lost amid all the sexual sounds flying about.
Breath catching and eyes closing, Mike dragged Alex off his cock and upright by his grip on Krycek's hair. "Wanna fuck you now." Mike launched into a kiss that edged on devouring.
Alex's teeth closed down on Mike's lip, drawing blood and he drew back with a guttural snarl. "Open your eyes, you son of a bitch."
Mike's attention snapped into intense focus. The back of his hand caught Krycek on the cheekbone. Grabbing Alex in mid-stagger, Pinocchio slammed his lover against the table then shoved hard so Krycek ended up sprawled on his back. "You ain't him," Mike growled. "But he ain't you either." Swatting, Pinocchio knocked Alex's legs open. "You greased, lover?"
"Do you care?" Krycek's expression challenged.
"Not particularly." Yanking the other to the edge off the table, Mike's fingers pried, parting firm butt-cheeks.
All at the same time; John whispered assurances, rhythmic thumps shook the wall, and Pinocchio line his cock up with Alex's exposed asshole. In time with one of the slams nearby, Mike rocked forward slightly.
"Oh fuck!" Krycek's legs jerked, before lifting and parting even further. His heels braced on the edge of the table. "DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!" Alex's body trembled. Sweat beaded up on his skin. He looked up at Mike and was thrilled to find those intense blue eyes returning his stare.
"OH JOHN! You're inside me." Hobbes sounded like he was about to cry.
"NYET!" It just wasn't fair. Alex braced himself ineffectually on the flat surface, expecting the overheard passion would cause a sudden thrust.
"I know..." Bending over, Mike growled out the words. "...who I'm fucking, Alex." He pushed, a slow, undeniable movement. The gentle insertion didn't stop until their bodies were flush and Pinocchio's face hovered just over Alex's. "You are the sweetest piece of ass I've ever had. Always were. Always will be."
It was a near as a declaration off affection as Pinocchio ever gave Alex. It had to be enough.
"Fuck me through the table, you bastard," Krycek responded with the same kind
of attitude. His breath hissed out as Mike gave him exactly what he'd asked for.
Not trying to hold anything in, Krycek's cries of arousal soon drowned out the
noise that Hobbes and Crichton were making.
Mike's open mouth pressed to the
skin at Alex's shoulder, almost cutting. Words might have been muttered but they
were lost, being to quietly spoken for sharing.
"MIKE! OH FUCK! God damned... bastard." Krycek was without such restraint. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Hard as you want. Oh God Mike!" His hips tipped, allowing the penetration as deep as the length of Pinocchio's cock would permit. His own shaft throbbed hotly, trapped between them. "Moi Mika! I need you so bad."
After what felt like forever and only mere seconds at the same time, Pinocchio's hand forced between their heaving bodies and wrapped around Alex's straining cock.
"Sukin syn!" Krycek spasmed, convulsing, as the fingers pulling at his shaft tore his orgasm out of him.
Mike, however, rode out the thrashing movements. Only once Alex was nearly boneless in his grip did Pinocchio unleash every bit of restraint. With fingers dragging at quickly bruising skin, Mike ploughed everything he had into his lover. His spine snapped into a bow. A pained grunt broke his bloody lips as he emptied himself into Alex.
Krycek was babbling softly, hiding his words in Russian for fear of how Pinocchio would react to them. In the near distance, Hobbes was still whimpering while Crichton made soothing noises. A loud slam suggested Logan and Sharpe were still engaged in their erotic battle.
Mike smoothed a touch over Alex's face and got his finger sucked languidly. It silenced the flood of verbal nonsense.
"Don't get upset," Pinocchio warned. "But I want to check on Hobbes. He's never done it with any man but me."
"Foursome. I could go for that." Alex's tone was soft and playful. "You wanna watch me suck John while you play with the golden martyr's tender body?"
"Brat." Mike eased out and up.
"Da," Krycek acknowledged, stretching. "You told Florence to keep away? We've got until dawn, right?"
"Likely."
"Hmmm..." Alex's head lolled to one side so he could hear John and Tom's murmurs more clearly. Hobbes still sounded muzzy with booze and eager to keep going. "So maybe we should."
Pinocchio's brows lifted. He caught Krycek's wrist and tugged. "We'll just
check on him. C'mon."
***
...and that'll do for now. Milk and cookies time.