Nicholas: Yo, I wrote another slash fic. Surprise, surprise. This one is a bit more explicit than Forgiveness was for the Boondock Saints...As I read it over I began to wonder if I'd really written it. Anyway, Lono/Max on the below one-shot. There is bondage, handjobs and a lot of cursing. I would have made this longer, but I was afraid of dragging it out too far. I took off from an alternate ending that I wrote for the Suicide Kings. I killed Lisa because...well she's a bitch...
Disclaimer: I don't own the Suicide Kings. Believe me, if I did, there would be a lot more making out between Max, Bret and TK in the bathroom, but, alas, I do not.
Rating: M!!! For sex!!! YAY SEX!!!
Max stayed in the water as long as the freezing chill would allow. Lisa would probably still be asleep now, but Max didn't want her to wake up yet. He was thinking too hard. He kept remembering the image of cutting Charlie's finger off, and how he'd almost gotten his own finger sawed off as well. No one was supposed to get hurt. Lisa had promised him that no one would get hurt. Things tend to get out of control, and when they do, you run away. It's natural.
It felt horrible knowing he'd been responsible for death and dismemberment. Lisa had barely shown remorse. Maybe that was what made the rift between them widen. It was a subtle tear at first, but Max felt the weight of his own guilt slowly tug it wider and wider. He tried to push the thoughts away as he pushed himself onto the side of the boat, out of the water.
Max didn't make it more than halfway up before he felt something press against his ear and that terrifyingly familiar click of a gun cocking. "Hey, Graduate." It was a recognizable voice, but Max had to look to make sure. It was Lono, Charlie's right hand man. "Nice shorts."
Max scoffed quietly, feeling the gun press ever so closer to his face. "Where's the money, Asshole?" Lono asked, dangerously.
"I'll get it," Max ventured, keeping his voice as steady as possible. He moved slowly in pulling himself all the way out of the water. Lono warily back up a step, the gun never leaving its aim. "If you put your fucking gun down."
"What'd I fucking tell you, Grad?"
"Oh right, you don't put your fucking gun down," Max muttered ironically. The nickname that Lono had given him was getting annoying. With a sigh, Max walked across the deck—still dripping wet and cold—to the hatch.
"Where's your girl?" Lono asked, taking careful steps to follow the kid.
"She's asleep." It was all Max could do to keep from speaking with a nasty tone. "Leave her alone." Max slipped into the hatch and rummaged around in the luggage and supplies Lisa had packed. He retrieved the black bag with the money in it and tossed it above him on deck. Lono snapped at him to come up as well. This was the only time Max regretted not having a gun.
As Max rose up from below deck, another figure came up from the cabin. Lisa wore a blue bikini that occupied most of Max's attention for a long while. When she caught sight of Lono and his beloved gun, she looked like she was about to scream. "Stay there, little lady," Lono demanded.
He approached Max, trusting Lisa to stay behind him. "Nice tan, Graduate." The only reason that he kept using the nickname was because he didn't actually know the kid's real name. "Sorry to ruin your vacation. Just answer a question for me. Was it your idea?"
The horrific realization of Lono's intentions was all it took for Max to get a grip on his nobility. He looked over at Lisa from across the boat and shrugged lightly. "Yeah," he lied, "It was my idea." He saw Lono take three steps toward him and the gun was pressing against his stomach. "You going to kill me?"
When Lono nodded, Lisa let out a squeak. She ran up, pushed Lono out of the way and practically fell onto Max's chest. The kiss she gave him made Lono smirk. Too passionate for it to be just another kiss. They definitely not married yet. "Lisa," Lono said to get her attention. "It wasn't him, was it?" Two beautiful blue eyes stared up at him from the protection of Max's arms. No wonder the boy had fallen for her. If looks could take your breath away, she had that look.
"It wasn't him," Lisa confirmed, and angelic ring to her voice. "It was my idea. It was all my idea." Max held her close and away from Lono—knowing this man was dangerous.
The sea breeze was calming enough. Lono always liked having something to think about other than people that he was going to kill. It gave him a variety of thoughts to ponder at one time. Max wasn't going to let go of her anytime soon, that much was obvious. So Lono just reached between them and fired haphazardly, hoping to hit his mark.
A piece of his heart disappeared from Max's chest when Lisa fell limp. Before he even had time to react, the silenced shot tore through her neck, splattering blood across his face. The sudden shift to dead weight brought him to his knees beside her body. As he clutched her, holding back tears, holding back screams, a thought kept nagging at his mind. That piece would have been bigger once. Once, Max's whole heart would have given out if he'd had to go through this then. Now, however, as he looked at Lisa's lifeless eyes, he only shuddered and felt the twinge of pain in his chest quickly dull.
Lono watched with satisfaction. He would admit to himself, that wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting, but it was better than nothing. He once more pressed the gun against Max's head, but didn't fire. Something held his trigger finger back. Something Charlie had said. "If they're responsible, kill them." This kid wasn't capable of what the girl had done. Lono could tell by looking at him. "Get up, Graduate."
Max looked up at him, through the sting of unshed tears, but didn't move other than that. His fingers idly twirled in his dead girlfriend's hair. "Fuck you," he muttered, almost to himself.
"Fuck me, eh?" Lono nodded indifferently at first. "All right, how 'bout we try this?" Just as the gun was lowered, Lono gripped a handful of Max's hair in his other hand and yanked the kid up. It was a bit easier than he thought it'd be. It made sense. Lono was older, and probably a lot stronger than this snot-nosed, rich kid.
Max's hands left Lisa immediately when a large clump of his hair threatened to detach itself painfully from his head. He shakily stood and tried to pry Lono's hand away. "Get the fuck off of me!" Max shouted harshly. Lono released him quickly and then threw a towel in his face—the one Max had left out for himself.
"Dry yourself off and get changed out of your fucking swim trunks."
The demand was peculiar at minimum. Max had expected to be shot. Maxwanted to be shot. That's three deaths and a missing finger that were unintentionally his fault. "Why the fuck should I? Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Lono pushed him toward the stairs that Lisa had come up from. "No, you're coming with me. Charlie's got a nice boat out here too, though I call it a mini-cruise ship. So get dressed, fuck head." Lono followed him down, gun once again trained on the kid's head.
Max absent-mindedly wiped the water off of himself while at the same time looking for some clothes. His mind had gone blank. His face was now completely apathetic. He didn't care anymore. "Privacy?" he asked the man lingering at the doorway.
"Fuck privacy," Lono said, "Get changed."
As much as it annoyed him, Max tried to ignore the feeling of being watched while he stripped of his swim trunks and dried himself off. He saw how intently Lono was inspecting him out of the corner of his eye. Wasn't this guy married? Max pulled on his boxers as quickly as he could manage, and went back to searching for clean clothes in his closet.
"Hurry the fuck up, will you?"
"I don't have any clean clothes." Lono could tell Max's voice had lost its emotional tone quality.
"Then wear something dirty," Lono stated obviously.
"I'm not going to wear something dirty, asshole." Again, there was no fire behind the insult at all. Max sounded monotone and bored. Lono let a strange train of thought carry him to ideas of how to change that.
"Jesus Christ, you sound like my fucking wife." He walked up to Max, looked in the closet and found a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt. He then threw these at Max and stepped back once more. "Takes forever to get fucking dressed, always complaining she had nothing to wear, Christ on a fucking crutch." Lono pretended not to notice the way the muscles on Max's back stretched when the kid bent over to pull his jeans on.
"Does your wife know you check out guys?" Max asked quietly.
"Fuck
you, my wife's dead."
'You probably killed her,' Max
thought to himself. "That's why, then."
"I do not 'check out guys,' because my wife's dead. I don't 'check out guys,' you fag." Lono's gun found its way against the small of Max's back, just as the buttons closed over his chest. "Now come on, and stop wasting my fucking time."
Charlie wasn't at all surprised to see Lono return utterly pissed off. He was shocked beyond comparison when he saw Lono dragging Max Minot behind him. "What the fuck is this, Lono?" he asked, pointing an almost accusing finger at Max—with the hand that was bandaged to keep the pinky attached. "I thought you were going to kill them."
"I killed her," Lono said. He tossed a black bag at Charlie's feet. "I got your fucking money, but the Graduate here didn't really do anything. It was the girl's idea…Before you say anything, yes I know what I did. Now let me say something, I'll fucking take care of it, okay." He pulled Max by the arm at gunpoint, down the red-colored hall of Charlie's mini-cruise ship.
"Wait a minute, Lono," Charlie called after him. "Try not to fuck around on my boat, all right? I just got the thing remodeled, Jesus!"
Lono barely heard him before he was all they way aft and at the door to his cabin. Yes, he knew Charlie that well that he had his own cabin. Once the door was open and then closed behind him and Max, he tossed the kid haphazardly into the room. Max just stumbled a few steps and steadied himself against a bar counter on one wall of the cabin. He looked around and realized just how nice the place was. There was a bar—no doubt because Lono was a loner and liked to get drunk in private. The queen-sized bed was a few feet away from that and in the empty space of the room there was a dinning table with three chairs around it. On the nightstand next to the bed, a lamp stood proudly amidst a lot of junk that must have congregated there.
"Sit down, Grad." It was a gruff demand on Lono's part, and Max was exceedingly close to flipping the man off and telling him to go fuck himself. Lono placed the gun on the counter and went to pour himself a drink. "You want something?"
"Nope."
"Good." It was a plain exchange followed by Lono throwing back two shots of whiskey and opening a bottle of Heineken. When he came back around the bar, Max noticed something interesting about his shoes. He must have been staring because Lono got a bit more pissed than he usually was. "The fuck are you looking at?" he snapped.
"Nice shoes. They don't look like leather."
Lono laughed quietly, and Max hadn't expected anything close to good humored ever coming from the angry, gun toting, Irishman. "No, they aren't leather. Their stingray."
A pause and a long inspection of the shoes followed. "The fish?…You're wearing fish boots?" It seemed to take all of Lono's self control to keep from killing the kid right then and there. "How much did they cost?"
"Fifteen hundred." Lono sat down at the table, the seat to Max's left and sipped his beer lovingly.
"Dollars?" Max looked from the boots to Lono and then back to the boots. "You paid fifteen hundred dollars for a pair of boots made out of a fish?" Lono's eye twitched slightly, but the man remained silent. Max sensed that he was probably pushing it, so he tried to shut up—failed miserably. "Nice boots, but I wouldn't more than two hundred dollars for a pair of shoes, and that's pushing it."
"You know what, shut the fuck up!" Lono looked out of place without holding the gun to Max's head. "There you go sounding like my fucking wife again. Jesus Christ! Can't I buy my own shoes without being fucking criticized by everyone." He saw Max shrug. "Don't even think about looking at these fucking boots again, you got that?"
Max raised his hands defensively and then took to staring at the wall absently. He got lost in his thoughts almost instantly, which he instantly regretted. His thoughts were on Lisa. They could have live happily if it hadn't been for that stupid kidnapping bullshit she'd pulled. They could have just waited to graduate like they'd planned originally and then her old man wouldn't have been able to stop them. No, they didn't wait, so here he was. Without Lisa, or anyone else he considered a friend. He felt his emotions return to him, but he held back his tears. "What was your wife like?"
Lono didn't even look at him, not a bit surprised by the question. "She was a nice girl when we met," he told. "More beautiful than anyone you've ever seen. Except for maybe that Lisa. Anyway, when we got married, she turned into a crabby housewife and I just had to sit back as it got to the point where she fucked just about every other guy but me. I may sound like an asshole, but she's better off dead."
"Did she kill herself?"
That caught Lono a little off-guard. "How the fuck did you know that?"
"I imagined I was married to you."
After a beat, Lono stood and slammed his fist across Max's face, sending the boy basically tumbling out of his seat. He pulled Max up by the hair, ignoring a cry of protest. It was the first actual pained sound that Lono had got out of the kid, and he liked hearing it. He hauled Max over to his bed and shoved him face-first into the blankets. Lono quickly searched his nightstand drawer and found a pair of handcuffs. He picked up the pistol that was among the clutter of his nightstand and climbed onto Max's back just as the boy was trying to get up.
The first cue for Max to really start struggling was the feeling of cold metal binding both of his wrists. He tried to wriggle out from under Lono's weight, but he reacted too late. He clenched his eyes shut when he felt the pistol dig into his jaw. Did this guy never run out of firearms?
"I swear to fucking God," Lono began, venomously. "If I hear one more thing about my wife or my fucking boots from you, I'll ass-fuck you with a silencer 'till your raw and bleeding, got that, Prick? Don't fucking nod. Answer yes or no." The pistol cocked with a deafening click in Max's ear. "Say, 'yes, I understand, Lono.'"
With all the dignity of a sea cucumber, Max repeated obediently. No matter how hard he tried to contain them, tears managed to squeeze their way out of his eyes and drip onto the comforter. Lono saw this and felt a strange feeling of control that he found he loved more than he'd loved his wife—which wasn't actually that much, but you get the picture. His finger lingered on the trigger for a bit as he took in to fear on Max's face. Almost his whole life, Lono's been kissing ass—Charlie's, his wife's, even Marty—and this kid seemed to be the one person that'd kiss his ass instead.
"What you're name, kid?"
The poor kid was stuttering, so Lono released the hammer on the pistol and took it away from his face. "M-Max," the kid said, "Max Minot."
"Minot? Like minnow? So I have the fish boots, you have the fish name? I like that."
Lono was gone for half the day, explaining himself to Charlie while hiding his knew-found sense of power like a toy he wasn't supposed to have. All that time, Max barely moved an inch. When Lono finally returned—it was already dark outside—he saw the boy lying in much the same position he'd left him in. He was asleep, though. Lono, utterly exhausted, was about to just haul Max off his bed and toss him on the floor, but then he reconsidered. As he looked at the sleeping boy, he felt a smile creep onto his face of its own accord.
He turned Max onto his back gently and the kid stayed asleep. There was still dried blood and his face from when Lono had shot Lisa. Out of some impulse, Lono licked his thumb and tried to rub away the brownish crust that had stained the boy's forehead. Max stirred slightly when Lono sat down on the bed next to him. Lono smirked wondering what Max would do if he woke up right then.
Just to be an ass, Lono leaned down and licked Max's face, actually succeeding in getting the blood off. Max whined quietly, but remained in his dreams. A sudden urge rose in Lono's gut. He wanted that feeling of control again. He wanted to have that power over some one, and who better to dominate than some one he'd already handcuffed.
Gently and slowly, Lono turned over and straddled Max's hips. He nipped at the kid's chin and licked his throat softly. Max's eyes flickered open after a moment and he tried to look down at what Lono was doing, but Lono pushed his face up with one hand. The other hand worked at unbuttoning Max's shirt.
"What are you doing?" Max asked, scared out of his wits and not hiding it.
"Feeling better about myself," Lono replied plainly. He brushed his hand across the kid's bare chest and felt him shiver slightly. Max's breath hiked when Lono's fingers started to play with one of his nipples.
Max didn't like it. The only one he'd ever let touch him like that was Lisa, but she was dead now. He once more tried to wriggle his way away from Lono, but that wasn't happening any time soon. Lono's wandering hands and clever tongue moved steadily lower on Max's body. "Please don't," Max pleaded quietly. Though Lono seemed not to notice, he was quite aware of the pitiful voice. He liked how it fueled him and he bit Max's skin a bit harder this time.
Lono couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good. Probably before his wedding…way before his wedding. He ran his tongue around Max's naval and smirked at the responding shiver he got. His fingers ran along the waistband of Max's jeans, just under the fabric. Max tried in vain to buck Lono off of him, but the older man just pushed him down harder. Lono kissed Max's mouth roughly, forcing his tongue between the kid's teeth. Surprisingly, Max didn't bite him. Maybe it was fear or something, but Max allowed the kiss. With this unintended permission, Lono forced his arms around the kid's back and pulled him to a sitting position off the side of the bed. Lono broke the kiss. "You a virgin, kid?" he asked, nipping Max's neck playfully.
"Uh…" Max was finding it exceedingly difficult to concentrate with Lono's hands once more exploring every inch of his body. "No," he stated indifferently. He felt long, thin fingers successfully undo the button on his jeans.
"Ever been fucked by a guy?" Another negative response found it's way through Max's dry throat. Lono dragged the kid's jeans out from under him. "Wanna be?" Silence met him and Lono paused. He looked up to observe the younger man's expression. "Lose your voice all of the sudden?" He gripped Max's crotch through his boxers and repeated himself: "Wanna be fucked by a guy?"
Max took a sharp intake of breath in pain. "No particularly, no!" was the reply he managed to form. He half-heartedly attempted to shrug Lono off of him.
Lono didn't let go of the kid's groin. "I doubt you wanna sleep on the floor." Max felt Lono's other hand caress the back of his head, while Lono's tongue found occupation in causing a tingling sensation from Max's ear. "Wanna be fucked by a guy?" Lono's voice was lower now, hinting more and more at seduction. Max just grunted angrily and bit his lower lip. "Ask for it." Lono continued to molest Max, waiting for a response. "Ask for it and you can sleep in a bed tonight."
With a slow, yet firm movement, Lono pulled Max's boxers off to reveal the kid's slowly growing arousal. A smug grin plastered itself across the older man's face as his tongue once more played with Max's ear. "Ask for it, 'cause you're not as reluctant as you're pretending to be."
"Fuck you, Lono."
Lono bit the younger man's earlobe hard, and Max yelped quietly in pain. Max's fingers gripped the chain between the cuffs that bound him. "Fuck me? Wrong-o! Try again." Lono's hand stroked Max's member, moving up and down his length.
In an instant, Max's back was arching. Lisa had certainly never done this before. "Lono!" It was a warning. As strange as it seems, Max liked the way his mind ran in circles. He felt a twinge of guilt that Lono—hands still wet with Lisa's blood—was making him so aroused. Max pushed the thought away and pushed his forehead into the crook of Lono's neck. "Please!"
Lono moved his hand faster, loving how he was able to control the kid with one hand—make him squirm, make him pant. "Please what? What, Max?"
"Please," Max's voice was little more than a whisper. "Fuck me." Lono chuckled quietly, hearing Max's breathing speed up and grow harsh. Max whined and pulled at the handcuffs while the friction became too much to bear. "Fuck me, Lono!" He couldn't believe his own ears.
Lono finished him off quickly, relishing in the sound of the kid's cry of pleasure as he came into Lono's hand. "Just for a bed to sleep in? I think not, you little whore." Lono wiped his hand off on Max's chest and pushed the young man down to the bed. The older man stood and went to his bathroom to take a shower, leaving Max lying on his back, near naked, and completely out of breath.