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rugbytackleI must admit I have been very nervous about posting "Frankie", it has been sitting half finished on my laptop for ages and bouncing around my head for for even longer. It still isn't finished, but I decided to post chapter one and force my self to keep going with it ... maybe.
You need to have seen "The Indian Runner" to understand the character Frank Roberts. I hope this story works - big thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
owlgrey for putting up with my moaning about it!
FIC: Frankie 1 / 3
AUTHOR: Widdershin
RATING: R
PAIRING: SB/Frank Roberts
WARNING: Language, adult concepts.
ARCHIVE:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rugbytackle
DISCLAIMER: This story is 100% fiction. These events never happened.
SUMMARY: Sean couldn’t believe how agitated he felt. It wasn’t the rough element if the bar, he had been in a lot worse…he had to admit it was one rough element in the bar.
BETA: Owlgrey
“Shite! What the hell was I thinking?” Sean grumbled as he walked through the door of the shabby motel room, “I might as well have checked into The Bates Motel… If that guy at reception offers me a cheese sandwich I’m out of here!”
He dropped his overnight bag on the floor, sat on the edge of the bed and looked around at the shabby interior. The room was clean, but had definitely seen better days. He could have stayed in the well-appointed hotel his agent had booked, but decided that he had had enough of LA and wanted something outside the city. He shook his head and reached for the television remote control more out of habit than a conscious action.
He absently flicked around what seemed like hundreds of banal channels, but was probably only a couple of dozen before deciding that watching “Cops” was not a good idea when he could hear enough sirens through the window. With the only possibilities of entertainment being the Gideon Bible in the bedside drawer and the world outside the little room, Sean opted for the latter and decided to check out the locals.
The heat from the day had started to dissipate and there was the barest hint of a breeze as Sean made his way out of his room and across the motel car park. He followed the broken footpath skirting the rundown suburban street towards what he hoped was a bar.
A neon sign flickered and then buzzed into life confirming that this indeed was a bar, as did the row of large motorbikes lined up near the entrance. Sean glanced along the bikes taking in the number of well-loved Harley Davidsons amongst them. He hesitated before entering the bar wondering if this was yet another bad idea and if he should skulk back to the motel to watch bad television and eat pizza. “Oh fuck it!” he mumbled before pushing the door open and walking into the darkened interior.
As Sean stood at the door the first thing that hit him was the noise; the TV near the bar was blaring some strange sporting event only to be outdone by the mob of men around the pool table. Sean quickly moved towards the bar, ignoring the curious looks from the pool players, and sat on a vacant barstool. From here he could survey his surroundings without feeling too conspicuous. The layout was pretty typical; stools at the bar, booths along the wall and tables clustered around the single pool table…but at least the bar looked well stocked. Sean pulled out his wallet as the barman approached, ordered a beer and threw a few notes on the bar. With drink in hand he grabbed a menu, made his way to one of the booths and settled where he could see the entire room and all its occupants.
Sean knew he had been in pubs rougher than this at home, but, although he couldn’t really pinpoint why, he still felt somewhat unnerved…. He sighed, shook his head and took a large gulp of beer grimacing at the taste of the domestic brew. He picked up the single page menu and passed his thumb over the first item noting how it left a grimy trail across the laminated writing. He chuckled to himself that the grease streak was probably a comment on the food service, but decided he would survive a burger and chips…’fries’ he reminded himself quickly.
“Frankie!”
Before he could head to the bar to order, his attention was drawn to the excited call of a tiny blond woman passing his booth. She flashed him a genuine smile before returning her gaze to the men near the pool table.
“Frankie!” she exclaimed again as she threw her arms around a man partially obscured by shadows leaning back against the wall. He smiled and wrapped one arm around her shoulder while juggling the half full glass of beer in his other hand. For some reason this couple intrigued Sean; she had a naiveté that seemed so out of place amongst the mob of sweaty, hairy men and he looked…well, the only thing Sean could think of was ‘dangerous’. Sean inwardly groaned at how clichéd that sounded, but that was the best way to describe him. He was leaner than most of the others gathered around the table, but still sported the obligatory assortment of badly formed tattoos. Sean’s eyes glanced over Frankie’s body and wondered at the mind of a man who would cover himself with such ugly adornments. A shame, Sean thought as he took in the lean muscles of his arms, it was a bloody nice body. Suddenly Frankie’s eyes flicked up and met Sean’s gaze. Even across the length of the bar Sean could feel the intensity of the pale blue eyes and quickly dropped his eyes to the menu.
“Good one Bean,” he thought, “stare at America’s next fucking serial killer.” Sean’s heart pounded in his chest and he had to work at settling his breathing. “Fucking hell get a grip!” Sean couldn’t believe how agitated he felt at that moment. It wasn’t the rough element in the bar, he had been in a lot worse…he had to admit it was one rough element in the bar. He cautiously slid his view to Frankie, only to once again make eye contact. He made a show of finding the menu a very interesting read. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle and a bead of sweat trickle from his hairline down behind his ear. He couldn’t quite fathom what it was about the thug near the pool table that was causing this reaction; his initial response of fear didn’t quite ring true. The man made him nervous, but he knew he could look after himself. Sean ran his hand across his eyes and through his hair before getting up and heading back to the bar.
The walk seemed to take an eternity even though it was only a few paces…he didn’t dare look, but was sure Frankie was still watching. He very deliberately pulled out his wallet and kept his eyes down until he heard, “Hey man, what can I get ya?”
Sean looked up into the face of the barman and for the first time noticed that he looked frighteningly like Dennis Hopper.
“Umm…burger and chi…fries please,” Sean managed to ask, “and a scotch.”
The man took his money with a wry grin and set a shot of whisky on the bar. “What’s up man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he chuckled and without waiting for a reply headed out the back with Sean’s order. Sean grinned and admonished himself for letting this place get to him. He picked up the glass, swallowed a mouthful, and swivelled around on the stool ready to meet Frankie’s stare.
He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved when he saw that Frankie was no longer in his original position, but playing pool with some of the hairy biker types. Sean leaned back on the bar and watched the game in progress. His eyes inevitably came to rest on Frankie. Sean couldn’t help but notice the loose-hipped walk of the man as he strolled around the table to set up his shot. Sean conceded that Frankie was not his usual ‘type’, but there was something there that caught his interest. On closer inspection he had to admit that even the numerous ugly inkings of the mismatched tattoos didn’t detract from the inherent sexuality of the man. Although it was difficult to tell in the dim lighting, Sean assumed his hair was light brown. It was almost shoulder length, but slicked back from his face giving him an almost brutal look. Sean wondered why this guy was purposely sabotaging his good looks. Frankie laughed at something another man said and leaned over the table to steady his cue. His jeans were tight and worn thin. Sean could make out the contours of well-muscled thighs. His fingers involuntarily flexed as he envisioned sliding them slowly down the seam of the jeans and then, just as slowly, dragging them up the front of his thighs. Sean’s breathing shallowed a little as he imagined feeling the heat of Frankie’s body through the worn fabric as they moved up his legs…how good that heat would feel as he pressed his hips against Frankie trapping him against the pool table…
Frankie took the shot and grinned as he raised his eyes to meet Sean’s. This time Sean held his gaze. In that instant it was as if they were attempting to decide who was the predator and who was the prey. Sean felt heat begin to pool in his groin as neither man was willing to give ground.
The sudden clatter of cutlery and crockery directly behind him startled Sean. His food had arrived. He turned around and looked up at the smirk of the barman who made a show of turning his head to Frankie and then back. He gave a small laugh, shook his head and said, “Brave man or fool?” Sean wasn’t sure if it was a statement or question, but the moment was broken.
When Sean gathered the shreds of his senses he clutched up his scotch and dinner and headed back to the relative safety of the booth, grabbing a well-thumbed newspaper on the way. He had no intention of actually reading the paper, but felt the need for extra props.
Sean sat pushing chips into his mouth trying to ignore his growing state of arousal. The words of the barman ran through his head, brave man or fool…at this point he couldn’t decide which, but took it to be a warning. Stay away from that man… probably good advice he concluded, but fuck he was getting hard.
A series of cat calls and laughter drew Sean’s attention back to the pool table where a couple of the bikers were slapping Frankie on the back while another shoved several notes into his hand. The little blond beamed at him as he pocketed the money before squealing and once again throwing her arms around him. When Frankie managed to extricate himself from her bear hug he held her face in his hands, said something very quietly and leaned in to kiss her.
Sean sat and watched the couple, the chip poised in mid air near his mouth forgotten. He was taken aback by the tenderness Frankie was showing the girl; there was genuine affection there, both the touch and smile were gentle. Gentle, that is, until one of the others noticed Sean and whispered something in Frankie’s ear. The smile turned into a leer as his hands left the girl’s face and travelled down her body. She squirmed as Frankie kissed and licked her neck. He paused, said something to her causing her to giggle before resuming his performance. Performance…that was how Sean regarded this display because, although Frankie was kissing his ‘girlfriend’, his eyes never left Sean’s.
“Fucking hell what game is this guy playing?” Sean thought, as he stared at Frankie’s hand as it slowly lifted the girl’s dress exposing her underwear and slipped along the bare skin of her lower back. She pulled away laughing and telling him to stop it. Frankie didn’t smile back, in fact he didn’t even look at her as she flounced back to her table; he leaned back against the pool table and watched Sean watching him.
Sean gave up on his dinner without even attempting to eat the burger, it looked okay, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to swallow. He suddenly felt claustrophobic under Frankie’s gaze. The noise and heat of the bar became too much, he had to get out. He pushed the partially eaten food away from him, slid out of the booth and kept his eyes on the door.
Sean ran his hand over his face and took a deep breath of the night air before lighting a cigarette with a hand that trembled just a little too much. He shook his head and gave a small uncertain laugh at his own behaviour. Surely he was past getting so worked up over a piece of rough trade he thought as he took a long draw of his smoke, closed his eyes and slumped back against the wall.
“I seen you watching me man.”
Sean’s eyes flew open to find Frankie standing right in front of him.
“Hey, I meant no offence… I … um … look wasn’t checking out your girlfriend, if that’s what you think.” Sean stammered and held up a hand. It was the truth, but he knew it sounded feeble and Frankie wouldn’t buy it.
“I know you weren’t watching Dottie. Repeat…I seen you watching me, man.” Frankie drawled as he leaned close enough for Sean to smell beer and sweat. “Why are you here?”
Sean tried to answer, but couldn’t make the words sound right in his head. Frankie just tilted his head and regarded Sean for a moment as if weighing up the situation. There was no smile on his face as he stepped closer. Sean felt electricity crackle through him as Frankie’s body touched his own. Neither moved. Frankie leaned against Sean, pushed against Sean…”Is this what you want?”
He could feel the rapid rise and fall of Frankie’s chest against his own. Sean couldn’t breathe; it was what he wanted. He knew that Frankie would be able to feel his erection as much as he could feel Frankie’s. Sean slowly lifted his hand and rested it gently on the back of Frankie’s head. Frankie gave a small unsure giggle into Sean’s neck sending a shiver down his spine.
Frankie pulled back slightly until he could see Sean’s face. Sean held very still. He was not sure whether to remove his hand as he saw a look of confusion pass over Frankie’s features. Sean braced himself waiting for the assault of fists he assumed was coming next, but Frankie’s hand was not clenched when it mirrored his own and slipped behind Sean’s neck. Slowly Frankie pulled Sean towards him. Sean was surprised at the softness of Frankie’s lips as they tentatively sought contact. This was not what Sean expected, he expected this to be rough and brutal, instead Frankie’s kiss was cautious and unsure. Sean tightened his grip on Frankie’s neck and pulled him closer and increased the pressure of the kiss. Frankie gave the slightest moan when Sean pushed his tongue between Frankie’s parted his lips. Sean knew he was taking a risk and still half expected his tongue to be bitten, but Frankie’s hand left his neck and grasped his hair holding him into the kiss while his other hand clutched at the belt loops of Sean’s jeans.
Sean finally understood that Frankie wanted this as much as he did and wrapped his arms around the tense body, grinding his hips forward to meet Frankie’s. The kiss was deep, but the pace was languid and sensual. There was no wrestle for control as their tongues moved slowly around each other. Sean’s hand searched for the heat of Frankie’s skin as it explored the torn t-shirt revelling in each tiny hole. Frankie gasped slightly when Sean’s hand eventually abandoned the t-shirt and moved across the front of his jeans to firmly trace the outline of Frankie’s erection before trapping it behind his palm. Frankie’s fingers released their grasp and slid through Sean’s hair until they reached his face. His fingertips skated over Sean’s cheekbones and lightly brushed his closed eyes. Sean groaned at the intimacy of the touch and again wondered at the change in Frankie.
Without warning Frankie froze in the kiss, pulled his mouth away and buried his face in Sean’s shoulder. Sean wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with this man, but slid his hand gently up his shoulder until he was stroking Frankie’s hair. Sean felt him tremble slightly before he straightened up.
His eyes were sad as he stood and looked at Sean. He sighed and whispered, “Lesson learned.”
Sean didn’t understand what he meant and went to touch Frankie’s face. Frankie leaned away from his hand, shook his head and quietly said, “Meetin’ adjourned.”
He turned and walked back into the bar leaving Sean breathless and wondering what the hell had just happened.
tbc
You need to have seen "The Indian Runner" to understand the character Frank Roberts. I hope this story works - big thank you to
owlgrey for putting up with my moaning about it!FIC: Frankie 1 / 3
AUTHOR: Widdershin
RATING: R
PAIRING: SB/Frank Roberts
WARNING: Language, adult concepts.
ARCHIVE:
rugbytackleDISCLAIMER: This story is 100% fiction. These events never happened.
SUMMARY: Sean couldn’t believe how agitated he felt. It wasn’t the rough element if the bar, he had been in a lot worse…he had to admit it was one rough element in the bar.
BETA: Owlgrey
“Shite! What the hell was I thinking?” Sean grumbled as he walked through the door of the shabby motel room, “I might as well have checked into The Bates Motel… If that guy at reception offers me a cheese sandwich I’m out of here!”
He dropped his overnight bag on the floor, sat on the edge of the bed and looked around at the shabby interior. The room was clean, but had definitely seen better days. He could have stayed in the well-appointed hotel his agent had booked, but decided that he had had enough of LA and wanted something outside the city. He shook his head and reached for the television remote control more out of habit than a conscious action.
He absently flicked around what seemed like hundreds of banal channels, but was probably only a couple of dozen before deciding that watching “Cops” was not a good idea when he could hear enough sirens through the window. With the only possibilities of entertainment being the Gideon Bible in the bedside drawer and the world outside the little room, Sean opted for the latter and decided to check out the locals.
The heat from the day had started to dissipate and there was the barest hint of a breeze as Sean made his way out of his room and across the motel car park. He followed the broken footpath skirting the rundown suburban street towards what he hoped was a bar.
A neon sign flickered and then buzzed into life confirming that this indeed was a bar, as did the row of large motorbikes lined up near the entrance. Sean glanced along the bikes taking in the number of well-loved Harley Davidsons amongst them. He hesitated before entering the bar wondering if this was yet another bad idea and if he should skulk back to the motel to watch bad television and eat pizza. “Oh fuck it!” he mumbled before pushing the door open and walking into the darkened interior.
As Sean stood at the door the first thing that hit him was the noise; the TV near the bar was blaring some strange sporting event only to be outdone by the mob of men around the pool table. Sean quickly moved towards the bar, ignoring the curious looks from the pool players, and sat on a vacant barstool. From here he could survey his surroundings without feeling too conspicuous. The layout was pretty typical; stools at the bar, booths along the wall and tables clustered around the single pool table…but at least the bar looked well stocked. Sean pulled out his wallet as the barman approached, ordered a beer and threw a few notes on the bar. With drink in hand he grabbed a menu, made his way to one of the booths and settled where he could see the entire room and all its occupants.
Sean knew he had been in pubs rougher than this at home, but, although he couldn’t really pinpoint why, he still felt somewhat unnerved…. He sighed, shook his head and took a large gulp of beer grimacing at the taste of the domestic brew. He picked up the single page menu and passed his thumb over the first item noting how it left a grimy trail across the laminated writing. He chuckled to himself that the grease streak was probably a comment on the food service, but decided he would survive a burger and chips…’fries’ he reminded himself quickly.
“Frankie!”
Before he could head to the bar to order, his attention was drawn to the excited call of a tiny blond woman passing his booth. She flashed him a genuine smile before returning her gaze to the men near the pool table.
“Frankie!” she exclaimed again as she threw her arms around a man partially obscured by shadows leaning back against the wall. He smiled and wrapped one arm around her shoulder while juggling the half full glass of beer in his other hand. For some reason this couple intrigued Sean; she had a naiveté that seemed so out of place amongst the mob of sweaty, hairy men and he looked…well, the only thing Sean could think of was ‘dangerous’. Sean inwardly groaned at how clichéd that sounded, but that was the best way to describe him. He was leaner than most of the others gathered around the table, but still sported the obligatory assortment of badly formed tattoos. Sean’s eyes glanced over Frankie’s body and wondered at the mind of a man who would cover himself with such ugly adornments. A shame, Sean thought as he took in the lean muscles of his arms, it was a bloody nice body. Suddenly Frankie’s eyes flicked up and met Sean’s gaze. Even across the length of the bar Sean could feel the intensity of the pale blue eyes and quickly dropped his eyes to the menu.
“Good one Bean,” he thought, “stare at America’s next fucking serial killer.” Sean’s heart pounded in his chest and he had to work at settling his breathing. “Fucking hell get a grip!” Sean couldn’t believe how agitated he felt at that moment. It wasn’t the rough element in the bar, he had been in a lot worse…he had to admit it was one rough element in the bar. He cautiously slid his view to Frankie, only to once again make eye contact. He made a show of finding the menu a very interesting read. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle and a bead of sweat trickle from his hairline down behind his ear. He couldn’t quite fathom what it was about the thug near the pool table that was causing this reaction; his initial response of fear didn’t quite ring true. The man made him nervous, but he knew he could look after himself. Sean ran his hand across his eyes and through his hair before getting up and heading back to the bar.
The walk seemed to take an eternity even though it was only a few paces…he didn’t dare look, but was sure Frankie was still watching. He very deliberately pulled out his wallet and kept his eyes down until he heard, “Hey man, what can I get ya?”
Sean looked up into the face of the barman and for the first time noticed that he looked frighteningly like Dennis Hopper.
“Umm…burger and chi…fries please,” Sean managed to ask, “and a scotch.”
The man took his money with a wry grin and set a shot of whisky on the bar. “What’s up man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he chuckled and without waiting for a reply headed out the back with Sean’s order. Sean grinned and admonished himself for letting this place get to him. He picked up the glass, swallowed a mouthful, and swivelled around on the stool ready to meet Frankie’s stare.
He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved when he saw that Frankie was no longer in his original position, but playing pool with some of the hairy biker types. Sean leaned back on the bar and watched the game in progress. His eyes inevitably came to rest on Frankie. Sean couldn’t help but notice the loose-hipped walk of the man as he strolled around the table to set up his shot. Sean conceded that Frankie was not his usual ‘type’, but there was something there that caught his interest. On closer inspection he had to admit that even the numerous ugly inkings of the mismatched tattoos didn’t detract from the inherent sexuality of the man. Although it was difficult to tell in the dim lighting, Sean assumed his hair was light brown. It was almost shoulder length, but slicked back from his face giving him an almost brutal look. Sean wondered why this guy was purposely sabotaging his good looks. Frankie laughed at something another man said and leaned over the table to steady his cue. His jeans were tight and worn thin. Sean could make out the contours of well-muscled thighs. His fingers involuntarily flexed as he envisioned sliding them slowly down the seam of the jeans and then, just as slowly, dragging them up the front of his thighs. Sean’s breathing shallowed a little as he imagined feeling the heat of Frankie’s body through the worn fabric as they moved up his legs…how good that heat would feel as he pressed his hips against Frankie trapping him against the pool table…
Frankie took the shot and grinned as he raised his eyes to meet Sean’s. This time Sean held his gaze. In that instant it was as if they were attempting to decide who was the predator and who was the prey. Sean felt heat begin to pool in his groin as neither man was willing to give ground.
The sudden clatter of cutlery and crockery directly behind him startled Sean. His food had arrived. He turned around and looked up at the smirk of the barman who made a show of turning his head to Frankie and then back. He gave a small laugh, shook his head and said, “Brave man or fool?” Sean wasn’t sure if it was a statement or question, but the moment was broken.
When Sean gathered the shreds of his senses he clutched up his scotch and dinner and headed back to the relative safety of the booth, grabbing a well-thumbed newspaper on the way. He had no intention of actually reading the paper, but felt the need for extra props.
Sean sat pushing chips into his mouth trying to ignore his growing state of arousal. The words of the barman ran through his head, brave man or fool…at this point he couldn’t decide which, but took it to be a warning. Stay away from that man… probably good advice he concluded, but fuck he was getting hard.
A series of cat calls and laughter drew Sean’s attention back to the pool table where a couple of the bikers were slapping Frankie on the back while another shoved several notes into his hand. The little blond beamed at him as he pocketed the money before squealing and once again throwing her arms around him. When Frankie managed to extricate himself from her bear hug he held her face in his hands, said something very quietly and leaned in to kiss her.
Sean sat and watched the couple, the chip poised in mid air near his mouth forgotten. He was taken aback by the tenderness Frankie was showing the girl; there was genuine affection there, both the touch and smile were gentle. Gentle, that is, until one of the others noticed Sean and whispered something in Frankie’s ear. The smile turned into a leer as his hands left the girl’s face and travelled down her body. She squirmed as Frankie kissed and licked her neck. He paused, said something to her causing her to giggle before resuming his performance. Performance…that was how Sean regarded this display because, although Frankie was kissing his ‘girlfriend’, his eyes never left Sean’s.
“Fucking hell what game is this guy playing?” Sean thought, as he stared at Frankie’s hand as it slowly lifted the girl’s dress exposing her underwear and slipped along the bare skin of her lower back. She pulled away laughing and telling him to stop it. Frankie didn’t smile back, in fact he didn’t even look at her as she flounced back to her table; he leaned back against the pool table and watched Sean watching him.
Sean gave up on his dinner without even attempting to eat the burger, it looked okay, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to swallow. He suddenly felt claustrophobic under Frankie’s gaze. The noise and heat of the bar became too much, he had to get out. He pushed the partially eaten food away from him, slid out of the booth and kept his eyes on the door.
Sean ran his hand over his face and took a deep breath of the night air before lighting a cigarette with a hand that trembled just a little too much. He shook his head and gave a small uncertain laugh at his own behaviour. Surely he was past getting so worked up over a piece of rough trade he thought as he took a long draw of his smoke, closed his eyes and slumped back against the wall.
“I seen you watching me man.”
Sean’s eyes flew open to find Frankie standing right in front of him.
“Hey, I meant no offence… I … um … look wasn’t checking out your girlfriend, if that’s what you think.” Sean stammered and held up a hand. It was the truth, but he knew it sounded feeble and Frankie wouldn’t buy it.
“I know you weren’t watching Dottie. Repeat…I seen you watching me, man.” Frankie drawled as he leaned close enough for Sean to smell beer and sweat. “Why are you here?”
Sean tried to answer, but couldn’t make the words sound right in his head. Frankie just tilted his head and regarded Sean for a moment as if weighing up the situation. There was no smile on his face as he stepped closer. Sean felt electricity crackle through him as Frankie’s body touched his own. Neither moved. Frankie leaned against Sean, pushed against Sean…”Is this what you want?”
He could feel the rapid rise and fall of Frankie’s chest against his own. Sean couldn’t breathe; it was what he wanted. He knew that Frankie would be able to feel his erection as much as he could feel Frankie’s. Sean slowly lifted his hand and rested it gently on the back of Frankie’s head. Frankie gave a small unsure giggle into Sean’s neck sending a shiver down his spine.
Frankie pulled back slightly until he could see Sean’s face. Sean held very still. He was not sure whether to remove his hand as he saw a look of confusion pass over Frankie’s features. Sean braced himself waiting for the assault of fists he assumed was coming next, but Frankie’s hand was not clenched when it mirrored his own and slipped behind Sean’s neck. Slowly Frankie pulled Sean towards him. Sean was surprised at the softness of Frankie’s lips as they tentatively sought contact. This was not what Sean expected, he expected this to be rough and brutal, instead Frankie’s kiss was cautious and unsure. Sean tightened his grip on Frankie’s neck and pulled him closer and increased the pressure of the kiss. Frankie gave the slightest moan when Sean pushed his tongue between Frankie’s parted his lips. Sean knew he was taking a risk and still half expected his tongue to be bitten, but Frankie’s hand left his neck and grasped his hair holding him into the kiss while his other hand clutched at the belt loops of Sean’s jeans.
Sean finally understood that Frankie wanted this as much as he did and wrapped his arms around the tense body, grinding his hips forward to meet Frankie’s. The kiss was deep, but the pace was languid and sensual. There was no wrestle for control as their tongues moved slowly around each other. Sean’s hand searched for the heat of Frankie’s skin as it explored the torn t-shirt revelling in each tiny hole. Frankie gasped slightly when Sean’s hand eventually abandoned the t-shirt and moved across the front of his jeans to firmly trace the outline of Frankie’s erection before trapping it behind his palm. Frankie’s fingers released their grasp and slid through Sean’s hair until they reached his face. His fingertips skated over Sean’s cheekbones and lightly brushed his closed eyes. Sean groaned at the intimacy of the touch and again wondered at the change in Frankie.
Without warning Frankie froze in the kiss, pulled his mouth away and buried his face in Sean’s shoulder. Sean wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with this man, but slid his hand gently up his shoulder until he was stroking Frankie’s hair. Sean felt him tremble slightly before he straightened up.
His eyes were sad as he stood and looked at Sean. He sighed and whispered, “Lesson learned.”
Sean didn’t understand what he meant and went to touch Frankie’s face. Frankie leaned away from his hand, shook his head and quietly said, “Meetin’ adjourned.”
He turned and walked back into the bar leaving Sean breathless and wondering what the hell had just happened.
tbc
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Date: 2004-04-03 05:47 am (UTC)Steamy hotinteresting pairing.no subject
Date: 2004-04-04 12:48 am (UTC)You may be surprised where this will end up! (eventhough it's not written yet!)
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Date: 2004-04-03 06:21 am (UTC)Angie
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Date: 2004-04-04 12:50 am (UTC)You must try to see The Indian Runner!! It is amazing... I think it is Viggo's best performance yet. And you get to see him naked!!!
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Date: 2004-04-14 01:33 pm (UTC)LOL! Right, that much I know. Got a capture pic of it on my HD. ;)
Sorry this is late, BTW; I just got home from out of town.
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Date: 2004-04-03 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-04 12:54 am (UTC)Don't you dare stop your B/T!!!! *G*
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Date: 2004-04-03 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-04 12:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-03 03:45 pm (UTC)This is an amazing piece of writing, and you and I know you can continue with it.
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Date: 2004-04-04 12:58 am (UTC)