Indomitable by Julad I'm not giving any specific warnings, but it's really *not* very nice. Cautious readers, beware. Not really a story, just a nasty piece of smut which has lingered far too long on my hard drive. If this makes anyone happy, it's thanks to Livia, although not exactly her doing. * * * * * Blair kicked the new doors shut behind him, and threw the offending wet towel on the bed, on top of the offending journals and the offending CD's. "Blow me." "I *heard* that." He yanked the door open again. "For fuck's sake, Jim, don't bother telling me unless you plan to do something about it." "Excuse me?" Blair smirked. "And don't pretend you *don't* hear me when you do." Jim smiled, dangerously. "Oh, I hear you just fine. Bite me, Jim. Kiss my ass, Jim. I hear everything you say to me." "Fine," Blair snapped. "*Good*. So lighten up with the damn house rules, will you?" Jim's hand darted out and latched onto Blair's belt. A rough jerk and Blair was stumbling forward into the wall of Jim's chest, his jeans tugged against his cock like a sharp squeeze on his crotch. Their breath mingled but Jim's eyes were impenetrable. "You should be careful what you subvocalise." Jim's voice was velvet and lethal. "You might meet somebody who can hear you." His hand was still pulling Blair's jeans up, and the pressure was a bite which escalated every time Blair shifted his tiptoe balance, growing more intense as his cock swelled and hardened. Jim's shoulders were warm and steady under Blair's gripping hands. He seemed inclined to hold Blair like this forever. Blair tried to laugh and squirm away. "Okay, uncle, already. You win. Let me go." Another jerk, and Blair whimpered. Heat bloomed in his face. "Come on, Freud," Jim said. His eyes were glittering but Blair couldn't tell why. "You must have known what you were asking for." "I, no, Jim." But too late, he was being manoeuvred backwards, staggering on tiptoe with the seam of his jeans pulling up against his balls. He was shoved against the wall, hard, and Jim let go. Blair's relief flared and then winked out as his legs were kicked wide apart and his groin was thrust forward by it, exposed and vulnerable. "Jim, don't you think this is a little excessive? I mean, yes, language tends to reflect our society's preoccupation with--" His arms were gripped and raised. "Shit." Jim's knee came up to caress his cock. Pressure, ominous. "I don't think this part of you is a good liar, Sandburg." Blair tried to bring his legs together, but Jim kicked them even further apart and stepped inside them. He spoke down from high above Blair. "I didn't invite a pervert into my home, did I?" "Jim, it's not, I just--" Jim waited, that inexhaustible soldier's patience. "You just what?" he said, eventually. "I just--" There was no way he could deny anything, with Jim standing over him and obviously already aware. "What are you gonna do?" Jim's hard face creased into a smile, and it wasn't reassuring. "You'll see," he said. "Leave your hands up or you'll regret it." He let go, and Blair dropped his arms but the hand which whipped around his throat stayed there until, reluctantly, he raised them again. Jim stepped back and looked at him, and Blair felt splayed like a whore, and shuddered. "Turn around," Jim said. Blair hesitated. "Do it." Arms still up, he did, resting his forehead against the wall. He could smell the recent varnish on his doors. "Legs apart... further. Further. Okay," and the voice held some approval, "that's good. Hold that." Hands came around his waist and Blair shuddered. "Jim, I'm sorry, you don't have to do this." Too late: his belt was unbuckled and then drawn out in a tense lick around his hips. "I'll move out," he blurted, and then his shirt was pulled up and over his head, catching his earrings roughly. Jim paused to arrange his hands flat against the wall, and spread each finger until they were as splayed as his legs. "Oh, fuck." "Shut up," Jim grated in his ear, and his fingers clasped on either side of Blair's pierced nipple in unspoken threat. "You can't afford to move out. You're stuck in my home. So you need to learn that you're not the one in control around here." Blair breathed through clenched teeth and tried not to apologise again. His bank balance loomed above the horror in his mind now, as if the gates to hell said, not "abandon all hope," but, "sixteen dollars and forty-five cents," and when you stepped across the threshold there was every father figure who'd ever shoved you around, and every handsome jock who'd ever turned his back on you in the locker room. Now Jim's arms were back around him in a sick parody of what he might have imagined, and unbuttoning his jeans. His hands paused, still on the denim with the heat of his fingers making Blair terrified of his growing erection. "You're going commando, aren't you?" Jim asked. Blair didn't move. "I asked you a question!" Jim snapped, and Blair jumped. His cock leapt free of his jeans and oh god, this was it, bad bad things were going to happen. "Yes," he managed, a half-strangled sound. "You are *such* a slut," Jim hissed into his ear, and then jerked the rear of his jeans up again. The seamed rubbed heat along Blair's crack. Blair was whimpering again, now, his hard-on beyond his control and aching for the touch he dreaded. "You flaunt yourself, trying to tempt me. You've got no respect." "I'm--" "*Shut up*. Just keep your mouth shut and don't make it any worse than it is." Blair nodded, and his heart was going to shatter his ribs. Jim's right hand smoothed its way under the denim and onto Blair's ass, and the touch of skin on skin made Blair's mind scream oh my god oh my god my god while he clenched his teeth and tried to stay silent. "I didn't want to do this but you made it necessary," Jim said. And then his hand lifted and *smack*, and even through denim the sting shocked Blair's mouth wide open. "Oh my god oh my god oh," *Smack* again, harder. "Shhh. Quiet." Blair choked back a moan. His jeans were worn enough to let the sensation through, and the fabric bunched in his crack was teasing his asshole with every twitch. *Smack* again, and he was so hard, and his cock was jerking in empty air in search of something to rub against, and his ass was stinging and the next one came down even harder, on the other cheek, and he was whimpering continuously now, and again, and oh god, again, and he was gonna bring a hand down to his cock and come without volition and *then* what would Jim do? *smack* crimson sting, flaring white in his head, oh god oh god oh *smack* burn penetrating deep into his ass, touch me god Jim please stop *smack* stop oh my god touch me suck me please I *need*-- *WHACK* "*SILENCE!" Jim shouted. He was grabbed and spun around and shoved back against the wall. Jim's face was red and he was breathing as heavily as Blair was. "You never know when to stop." Another shove against his shoulders, and his jeans yanked down around his thighs, and that knee was now pressing into the dent of his hip, pushing his burning ass against the cool paint while Blair writhed, out of control, trying to rub himself against Jim's leg. "You just won't shut up, will you?" No, I won't, Blair thought, and *fuck you*, just fuck you. "I won't, I won't, Jim, fuck you," "Shut up!" Jim was yelling, "shut up shut up shut up--" "No, fuck you, I won't. *Fuck* you," Blair yelled back, yelled it again and again until he finally *heard* what Jim was saying, and took a deep breath, and drowned Jim out. "BLOW ME." In the silence which gathered under their heavy breathing, Blair stared into Jim's eyes with as much force as he could gather. Jim didn't flinch; he had his hard face on. His jaw was set and his eyes stared back until he looked like he had zoned on being imdomitable. "Suck me," Blair whispered, and it felt like the first step down a mountain, "get down, blow me, do it," and he was stumbling downhill now, "get down on your knees, Jim, and open your mouth." Slowly, almost glacially, Jim was crouching down. "*Yes*, do it. On your knees, get down on your knees, good, and take your shirt off, get rid of it, yeah. Now spread your thighs apart, no, wider," --Blair was panting so hard he could hardly speak, his gathering momentum ripping the breath from his lungs, and he was slapping his own ass against the wall now in anticipation, "open your pants, yes, good. Put your hand in, perfect, okay now hold still, hold it right there hold it--" --and oh, that looked good, Blair thought, gasping. Jim down between his legs, hand resting on his cock, staring up at him with those hard blue eyes in his hard face, inches from Blair's cock, waiting. Blair held it there, held them teetering on the edge of his balance, held his breath and drank in the sight for as long as he could stand it. Jim's face was stony but his thighs were clenching and his cock was getting hard and huge under the unmoving hand covering it. Blair felt his fingers curling with raw power on top of his raised fists, and then his cock throbbed and precum slipped out and he was losing his balance, whispering "soon soon soon soon" picking up pace as he stumbled downhill again. He took a deep breath and shouted, "now *do it*, you jerk, suck it! blow me-- " Jim bared his teeth and then lunged forward, and Blair was engulfed, swallowed, sucked hard, and a hand squeezed his asscheek roughly and he thrust forward and was pulled in further, and he was banging his head on the wall and god, screamed for harder and deeper and was rewarded with obedience, he felt hard and thick and felt *sucked*, harder and harder as he demanded it until he was exploding out into it, all of him, imploding, stars spinning and ecstasy pounding while he yelled in victory. A long time later, Blair felt himself sliding down the wall, and opened his eyes again. He was still spread like a whore, now like a debauched one. Jim was once more towering over him, that same implacable, impenetrable face on. Blair stared at him, unable to feel anything but shaken. "I don't want to have to do that again, you hear me?" Jim said, and his eyes were still hard, and still glittering. "Have you learned your lesson?" Blair nodded, and stumbled back into his room. He closed the door and rested his forehead against it while he did his jeans up, and listened to Jim walk up the stairs. Every father figure; every handsome jock. Blair dropped his head back to look at the ceiling. "Fuck you, asshole!" he shouted, and then laughed. * * * * * end