a rough town

[ofanotherera]

London is trouble on every corner. Tommy has been shown this, time and again, but all the same, Sabini's men manage to find him on the wrong side of the Camden road, and from there it's all blood and bad fortune, for everyone involved in the little dustup.

Comments

[ofanotherera]

"All right."

Rubbing his thumb over Tommy's lip, then over his cheekbone. The one he still desperately wants to bruise up, with a slap or two. He reaches for his fly, instead.

"You won't be able to breathe all of the time, but just remember; I'm not going to kill you. You can't die from it."

[bleak_midwinter]

He nods, where he would usually roll his eyes are surge forward to prove himself. He just nods, digs his fingertips in just a little deeper. It's not eagerness: just willingness, curiosity, and a bit of excitement.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie holds him by the jaw for a second longer, remembering how he'd responded to that earlier, and strips his vest, then his suspenders off to hang. He opens his trousers, pulls himself out, half hard already, and reaches forward to take Tommy by the hair.

"Good lad."

[bleak_midwinter]

He still has to anchor himself with his hand on Alfie's hip, but other than the can close his eyes, lean in, and suck the head of his cock into his mouth.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie breathes out, slow and steady, and gives his scalp an approving scratch, still avoiding that cut.

"That's better, isn't it? There we are."

[bleak_midwinter]

There is more blood to be found on his neck, and bruises to boot, but those won't be relevant right now. Right now he circles his thumb on Alfie's hipbone and starts sucking, trying to remember the times this was done for him. Not often, really- British girls tend not to, even the prostitutes. But he knows what's good for him, broadly.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie lets out an appreciative breath, and swells, slowly, in his mouth. He growls his appreciation, and moves, thrusting, just shallowly.

"Tuck your teeth away, love."

[bleak_midwinter]

It's hopelessly arousing to feel Alfie getting hard inside of him, and he moans at that- at the little name, again. He does as he's told, for now not moving, letting Alfie set the pace as he presses his tongue flat against the heat of him.

[ofanotherera]

Another few thrusts, and he's most of the way erect, stroking and soothing, gentling him as he starts to move deeper and deeper.

"That's it, that's it now-"

[bleak_midwinter]

He opens his eyes as Alfie starts moving deeper- he's curious whether he wants Tommy to move, or if he prefers him keeping still. He decides to test it, eyes still open, by bobbing his head a little.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie glances down at him in surprise, as though he'd forgotten he was a participant in this, and smiles, though it's difficult to say for sure if that's the case behind his beard.

"Good."

Reserved, quiet praise.

[bleak_midwinter]

It's hard to see in the dim light, anyway, but Tommy doesn't need to see the smile in order to hear it. He does it again, with some confidence, eyes slipping back shut. He hadn't expected the praise to shudder down his spine, but there it is.

[ofanotherera]

"Open wider."

He orders him, taking him by the jaw again, holding him still, having to stoop a little- but it's worth it, for how it feels to fuck into his mouth, to take him this way, with how lovely he looks, wide eyed and bloodstained.

[bleak_midwinter]

Quite quickly he chokes- just a little, but enough that it makes his jaw spasm underneath Alfie's hand. He keeps his eyes closed, though, and lets his jaw drop further.

[ofanotherera]

"Fuck." Alfie says, appreciatively, and pushes deeper, with little regard for him- except it isn't quite that, because he is paying attention. Maybe it's more fair to call it deliberate sadism.

"That's the way, love, just-"

Holding him by the hair now, nudging him back against the wall and boxing him in with his strong legs.

[bleak_midwinter]

On his knees, feeling the cold of the wall against his bruised back and the heat of Alfie's body against his front, he doesn't notice the care Alfie is taking with him. All he knows, by now, is how good it feels, how he wants it more, deeper-

It's exactly right. The only shiver of fear that still runs through him is the anticipation of breathlessness, of choking, which he does every time Alfie pushes deep enough. The rest of it is pleasured pain, and every time Alfie pulls out he moans, softly.

[ofanotherera]

"Good boy, good boy, good fucking-"

Jesus. He spasms, grabs him hard by the hair, and comes, deep in his mouth, holding his face turned up so he can see the tears in his eyes when it chokes him.

[bleak_midwinter]

He hadn't even noticed the steady trickle of them down his cheeks, but when Alfie grabs him and then comes- swelling in his mouth, spasming, making Tommy choke on his come, comes- they flow freely. He's not even sure all of it is a purely physical response. Somewhere he knows Alfie wants to see it, so he opens his eyes halfway through, big and blue and hurt and, now, a little more afraid now that he can feel his lungs run out of air.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie rocks forward, taken by an aftershock at just the sight, then pulls out so he can get a gasp or two in.

He tucks his prick away, and then reaches for a handkerchief, finding the spare to clean him back up.

[bleak_midwinter]

He is shivering and shaking where he is, doesn't even think to close his mouth until Alfie starts cleaning him up. When he does he wipes weakly at the come tricking down his jaw, and then looks at Alfie.

This was so- so different from last time. His throat is sore and he feels like he spent half an hour crying, but it's good, it's warm and heady and he did good.

[ofanotherera]

"Oh," says Alfie, stroking him again, and then bending down to take him gently by the arms, to help him to his feet, and into the kitchen.

"Come along, Mister Shelby. You aren't in any state to leave here tonight, so you'll have to let me clean you up."

[bleak_midwinter]

It's a bit of an emotional whiplash, Alfie fucking his mouth so hard he cries and then taking him so gently by the arms to clean him up. It makes his breath hitch, makes him have to wipe at his eyes again. He feels some shame at that, that he can't keep himself from doing it. He follows, lets himself be led.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie takes Tommy into the kitchen, and sits him delicately down in front of the kitchen hearth while he starts up a fire. You treat shock (not by face-fucking someone into tears, but that ship has sailed) with warmth, so despite the fact that it's only a mildly chilled spring night, he gets a fire up in his little stove, and a kettle on, first things first. When he's near enough to him, he touches his hair, or braces a hand on his shoulder as he crouches at the grate.

While the kettle sets to boiling, Alfie fetches Tommy a pastry, a little stale but filled with sweet honey and nuts. He breaks a little piece off for him, and pushes it into his hand.

[bleak_midwinter]

Tommy is shivering for a while as Alfie goes about his business, but the touches calm him down, bit by bit. By the time he's handed the pastry he's still breathing a little shallow (and raspy, mostly thanks to the choking) but he looks better. The warmth is settling into his bones, and he quietly eats. It's probably the most quiet he's ever been around Alfie, the most passive.

[ofanotherera]

The first kettle turns into two cups of tea, and then he begins the arduous process of drawing him a hot bath- there's a small, but deep copper tub he produces from one of the back cupboards, with some swearing, some clattering.

He comes back after that, to settle next to him, mutely, and sip his own tea while the kettle begins to work up to steam again.