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]

"Yeah," he agrees, grabbing an arm about his waist and giving him a greedy kiss on the throat, lifting him to arch up, to come with him.

"Now."

[bleak_midwinter]

He arches without thinking about it, thinking instead of getting up and coming with Alfie. He holds onto him tight while he walks, the bath having settled his muscles but not the swelling, the bruising.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie smiles, and marches him up the stairs like that, so close they nearly trip one another, chewing idly on his ear.

"Fucking lovely."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Last time," he rasps, tightening his hold a little when he almost goes down. "Bore your marks for three weeks."

[ofanotherera]

"'m not gonna bruise you up this time. You're already in for a world of pain tomorrow."

Alfie admits, reluctantly.

"Gonna make it good for you, that's all."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Hard enough to find a place that isn't bruised up already," he agrees, squeezing Alfie's arm a little.

"I just- wanted you to know." So he can think about it, later, perhaps.

[ofanotherera]

"So I know what to do next time I have you, all pristine and slut-spread for my prick?"

Alfie wonders, pushing him through the bedroom door.

[bleak_midwinter]

It wrenches a surprised moan out of him, hearing that, and he turns big, aroused eyes on Alfie.

"Yes," he eventually agrees, cheeks flushed, walking into the room backwards.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie crowds him up to, and then down over the bed, pushing him onto his back, dropping down overtop of him, running broad hands along his sides.

"Like that?"

[bleak_midwinter]

He shivers and arches into the touch, very aware of his nudity underneath Alfie's still-clothed body. He doesn't even know for sure what Alfie is asking him- whether he likes to be talked to like that, whether he likes being manhandled, whether he enjoys his hands on him- but he can only nod, mouth open in a soft gasp.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie draws his thighs apart, and with a small laugh, settles down over him, careful not to press too hard.

"Good lad, good lad-"

[bleak_midwinter]

"The things I let you do to me," he whispers, hoarse, leaning up to kiss him, filthy and wet.

[ofanotherera]

"Gonna let me do more?"

He wonders, reaching for the oil in the nightstand.

[bleak_midwinter]

"Until I can't take any more of it, most probably." He nudges his good knee against Alfie's side, urging him closer.

[ofanotherera]

"Trying to decide how nice to be to you."

Alfie admits, with a little growl.

[bleak_midwinter]

"What're the options? Let me help you narrow it down."

He has some ideas of his own, but he wonders how far Alfie Solomons can go with gentle and nice until he hits another subtly sadistic wall.

[ofanotherera]

"Fuck me."

He says, and then decides, without giving him a chance for input.

He shifts down, spreads Tommy's legs, and kisses his stomach, then the head of his cock.

[bleak_midwinter]

He's half-heard from the tension alone, and when Alfie settles between his legs and kisses him he gasps, hitches his hips up involuntarily.

"Alright," he says, with the last bit of cheek he feels inside of him, "But you'll have to be on top, Alfie."

[ofanotherera]

He snorts, and gives him a sharp little bite, right on the hip. Wicked boy.

Then, he sucks his fingers into his mouth for a moment, and presses two against him.

[bleak_midwinter]

His legs fall open wider immediately, the suggestion enough to make him gasp. He wants to plead, softly, but he keeps his tongue in check a while longer.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie growls, and hitches his legs wider apart, putting his mouth back on him, sucking him in deeply, and with more familiarity than Tommy had, poor thing.

[bleak_midwinter]

He vaguely, very vaguely, wonders where Alfie learned that, and decides to ask him when the words can come to him again. For now he lets out a loud, happy moan, arches his back.

"Christ almighty, Alfie-"

[ofanotherera]

He pulls back, enough to spit on him, to use his two fingers to press inside him with it, raw and dry and mean.

"Blasphemy everywhere."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Not your lord's name I'm taking in vain-"

And then he stops speaking, because there's a burn between his legs and he needs to process it, has to frown and adjust before his expression softens into heady pleasure.

[ofanotherera]

To hell with it. Alfie pulls his fingers back, and slips his head lower, licking where he'd been touching, tongue pressing briefly up and into him.

He'd warned him about London men.