Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 13, 2017 Share Posted November 13, 2017 Name: Kris Weston Alias: “Ace of Spades” Occupation: Gang boss of the biggest drug ring Location: Seattle, Washington. USA Age: 22 Height: 5’5” Weight: 145 lbs (mostly in muscle) Postion: Uke Sexuality: Homosexual Family: Mother: Jane Weston Father: Deceased Siblings: None Pets: None Closer Personal Relationships: His loyal dog Marc who is by his side almost all the time. He keeps him in line and out of the eyes of the authorities. Appearance: Hair Color: Blonde Eye Color: Yellow (Contacts) Naturally its blue. Extra info: He has one earring and his body is littered with scars. He keeps them well hidden. Personality: Kris is often underestimated for how small he is and often called “Cute”. He doesn’t like people getting too close. He’s very guarded with everything he does and doesn’t let others see his emotions. He is loyal to a fault, if you get close to him and he does let you in he’ll be by your side forever. He often keeps himself busy with his work and keeps those with him safe. He’s worried that he will let his men down and he works his hardest to keep their standards of him high. He has to get his name from somewhere. Does Personality change around a specific person? How so? He is often hostile to the other gang leader in the city. He snaps at him and they have a horrible relationship. He also fights with the boss’s right hand man and loyal dog who seems to be the only one that will have audience with him. Likes: • Animals • Loyalty • Night • Big City • Sex Dislikes: • The gang • Annoying people • Those who underestimate him • Resorting to violence • His size Bio: Kris grew up in Seattle with his mother and father within a gang. His mother was often treated like shit while his father, well, beat on her. He was the leader of a small gang within the city and after he died from an “accident” Kris took over. After it leaked that he had murdered his father he became big within the underground world. His popularity skyrocketed and his leadership skills just made it all better. He was often seen as small though he could pick a fight, and win, with the biggest guys in the city. Growing up in a rough family he was able to take care of himself and even learned how to do more than that. He started working on a drug cartel that became the biggest in the nation shipping productions from Seattle throughout all of the U.S. as well as Canada and Mexico. Now as another gang starts to rise and tensions heat up Kris has to find away to keep his territory under his wing and push these invaders out of his city. Extra: - He is very skilled in hand-to-hand combat as well as an excellent marksman. His father was ex-military (resorted to gang life after being dishonorably discharged for beating on his wife though he still learned how to shoot). - He has an excellent memory. This is why he is so good trafficking money and drugs. - He has no mercy and will often kill before forgiving others for what they have done to him or his people. ~~ Seattle is your typical modern day big city. With a really rich side and of course a really dark underground side. Kris, was apart of this underground side where he just so happened to get enough money to be apart of that elite life as well. His financial aspects were through the roof because of illegal drug trafficking and loan sharking. Being downtown in the heart of the city made this easy. There were always new people coming here to make it big. To get their big break in life. It wasn’t the best place in the world as the smog and smoke rose to the skyline and the garbage sunk deeper into the sewers but it worked. The worst part about the city however, was its ever growing gang problem. The Ace of Spades ran one of the biggest, most elite, and most cruel gangs in the city. No one dared to combat him until recently. Kris had started to deal with his mean being busted or found jumped by supposed rivaling gang members. This was obviously a problem and Kris made a point to put an end to it. His men went out in numbers and always armed. He never went out along less he really needed to, which put a damper on his personal life. Kris was a person of space and solitude, having his loyal dog at his side at all times even to take a shit was a new thing for him. This meant he couldn’t even enjoy his own home anymore. Quickly to stop this from happening for longer than necessary the Ace of Spades worked hard to get a meeting with the other “boss” in town. Kris had been the only major gang boss in Seattle for years and never had to deal with anyone he couldn’t snuff out in a few days. This was different, they were proving to be difficult and with this keeping up he would have to divide Seattle in half in order to keep their men from being killed. He was more than happy to meet with him and asked that they both come alone. He would honor this hoping that the other boss would as well. Sure he would have a car waiting and if anything happened he too would be strapped. Kris was small but his father trained him like a marine and he was very skilled with a gun. Even better with a knife. If something did happen he would most likely be completely fine by himself, but it didn’t hurt to have back up. The meeting place was to be somewhere nuetral so the two of them could meet without feeling like they were outnumbered and alienated from their people. Right now this was central Seattle causing Kris to move is base further out from the cities main hub. This wasn't all bad, the cops were growing closer and closer to their hideout so a change of scenery never hurt anyone. Now not even the other boss knew where his base of opperations was meaning that the drugs, his men, and himself were safe for the moment. Long as no one fucked up and ruined it all he would be set in stone till they could clear this gang rivalry up. Kris was hoping that it would be quick and easy and no one would have to get hurt. Kris was no stranger to violence and his body proved that. His father used to beat, rape, and abuse him when he was little that his body was riddled with scars. He has very few that are from his adult life working in the underground systems but he likes to tell people its from that. No one wanted to hear his sob story about his life or how he killed his father because he was beating on his mom. It was a story better left unsaid. Not even his right hand man knew the real Kris, to everyone he was the Ace of Spades and he liked it that way. He would rather be under a mask than expose his heart for the world to destroy it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 14, 2017 Share Posted November 14, 2017 Name: Rory “Scot” Lawson Age: 26 Occupation: Gang member/Drag bike racer Distinguishing Features: Barbed wire tattoo along his right forearm. Tall height. Scarred knuckles. Firm upright stance, broadening his shoulders. Position: Seme Sexuality: Undefined Likes: Black brand cigarettes. His cruiser motorbike. Lounge music and smooth jazz. Beer. Sunsets over cityscapes. Foreign films. Dislikes: Police. Whiskey. Noisy crowds. Thunderstorms. Public transport. Rival gangs. Background Rory’s parents were militant Scotsmen whose careers had forced him to move around the country, making it impossible for Rory to adapt to his environment and make friends. This growing frustration from a troubled youth lead to violent tendencies, and Rory had inevitable run-ins with detention centres through his teens. He earned money by underground bare-knuckle fighting, often operated by hardened criminal communities. So in an attempt to move Rory away from this crowd, they moved to Seattle for a fresh start, but this only worsened his mentality as he then faced severe culture shock and further stunted his ability to function in normal society. Rory integrated within the Seattle underground scene through hustling and drug dealing, eventually catching the attention of bike-gang leader and drug lord Luther Kahn. When Rory left home, Luther took him under his wing as his right-hand man and personal bodyguard, even going as far as to set him up with his own apartment. Now Rory assists Luther with brunt work and drug trafficking, often taking on the most dangerous operations in Luther’s stead. Personality Due to social difficulties in his youth, Rory has a hard time interacting with others without a hair-trigger temper coming to his defence. Though he comes across as blunt and hard-headed, with a bad habit of acting first before thinking it through, he’s often defensive to prevent exposing his vulnerable side. When he isn’t provoked or when he feels comfortable, Rory is introspective and surprisingly zen. Amid all the violence, chaos and confusion, Rory savours fleeting lapses of peace when he can grasp it. Rory’s total dependence on Luther only strengthens his loyalty to their gang, so he often goes along with Luther’s orders with no questions asked. He thinks of Luther like family, though he isn’t aware when he’s blatantly subjected to Luther’s neglect, and is often a victim of manipulation and abuse. As guarded as Rory can be, he is misguided when choosing who to trust, because of a desperate deep-seated desire to share something meaningful with another person. ~~ Speeding down the dank alleyways of the Seattle backstreets, Rory skilfully rears his cruiser through the smog, and eventually halts to park beside a line of decaying warehouses. Windows are smashed in, boarded up, and sprayed over with graffiti, all in an attempt to cover up the inside. But the faint clashing sounds of colliding metal and subtle screams seep through the cracks, and take to the air amongst the whistling winds. Like the soundtrack to a horror film. Rory slips off his helmet, shaking his dirty-blond hair free into an unkempt mess around his stoic face. The olive crystals in his eyes scope the area for an entranceway… until, amusingly, he follows a trail of bullet holes etched in the walls to find a fire-exit door cracked ajar. Rory straightens his tightly-fitted raven jacket, loosens his velvet tie, and ventures inside. “Please! No more! I’ve told you everything I know!! Let me go!!” “No no no, I’m not convinced you have told us everything… because if you did, we’d have all the intel on our rival’s shipment plans by now. It’s not like traffickers take days off! Especially when our target is responsible for the main vein of Seattle’s drug flow. So I’ll ask again… what is the Ace of Space’s next big operation?” Luther Kahn, dressed in a dishevelled waistcoat with his dirtied white shirt rolled past his elbows, has his captive strapped by rope to a chair in the centre of the warehouse. The poor cocoa-skinned victim barely looks able to answer back with streams of blood pouring over his sweaty face. Though he tries through chattering teeth, “I… I don’t know what else I can tell you… that kind of important information is classified! I’ve only just been recruited into his cartel, I need more time to earn their trust—“ “Then you haven’t been trying hard enough, have you? You have these useful little tools on both sides of your head, I’m sure you’ve used them at some point!” Luther snarls as he suddenly grabs hold of the captive’s ears, and yanks at them until he squeals, “You’re an informant! Finding out important information is what I’m paying you for! So think! You must have overheard someone say something, anything, about an upcoming shipment! Or do you need our assistance to jog your memory?” As Luther leers over to Rory, quietly lingering on the steel catwalk, he beckons the man to join the scene. And the moment he steps into view, beneath the flickering low-hanging lightbulb, Luther forces a wrench into his hands. The bitter cold temperature of the metallic vice bit at Rory’s fingers, making him wince with hesitation. Luther smirks, bemused. “Seems our friend here is kind enough to consider mercy.” Luther shakes the warehouse with a boisterously sarcastic laugh, before his smile quickly falls into a sinister frown, “Too bad this is only a temporary lapse of amnesia. Because it seems that he’s forgotten exactly where he stands in our group. Am I right, Scot?” Luther turns to face Rory without a trace of amusement, and takes a hold of his shoulder in a tight grip. His trembling strength intimidates Rory into submission, though he shows minor discomfort through his stoic expression, he feels as though every nerve in his body is trapped in an overbearing vice. He takes a deep breath, and a glaze of emptiness coats over his eyes. Now he’s ready for Luther’s orders. “Ah, there’s my Scot. I’ve trained him well.” Luther grins with satisfaction, then turns back to the helpless captive, “Y’see, Scot isn’t an ordinary person. No, think of him as… an extension of myself. He is no more human than that wrench he is carrying. He’s a tool I like to use to get the job done quickly and efficiently, without having to get my own hands dirty. So when you feel that wrench hitting against your kneecaps over and over again, those aren’t Scot’s hands wrapped around the handle… those are mine!” This is Rory’s cue. Without any cause for hesitation, Rory raises the wrench above his head, and swings it down against the captive’s left kneecap. A metallic-sounding shrill echoes alongside the poor man’s cries as he doubles forward in his chair. And Rory nearly drops the wrench. It feels like it’s vibrating violently in his palms, as if the cracking bone had rung through the entirety of Rory’s body. It stung like a red-hot bolt of lightning. His breath shallows from adrenaline. And Luther punches the air in victory, as if he’s simply watching a game of football on TV. “Excellent… excellent, Scot. Hang back for a sec, alright? I want to talk to our buddy one more time.” Luther demands as he grabs a fistful of the captive’s hair and pulls it back, lifting his head to the air like a lifeless rag-doll, “So… remember anything now?” The cocoa-skinned prisoner squeezes out a small whimper, as if he’s been sucked of all his energy. Luther clicks his tongue impatiently and releases his grip, unimpressed with the way he had fallen forward on the edge of unconsciousness. “Looks like we may have overdone it, Scot. Tch! Pussy motherfucker. Oh well. We’ll give him a little time to recollect himself – let him mull over his options for a little while before continuing any further interrogation.” Luther nonchalantly dusts off his shoulders before he beckons Rory, “Come, Scot. I need to speak with you about another matter.” The captive is left under the watchful eyes of two off-standing henchmen as Rory follows Luther into a barren office, and leans against a rotten desk that had been discarded there. And as he lights up a cigarette to exhale smoke to the dusty air, Luther shortly gets down to it, “Seems like our hard work has finally garnered the attention of the big man himself. Ace of Spaces has agreed to meet with us and talk business interests. But as you can see, I’m a little… caught up in some personal affairs at the moment. I can’t risk any oversights now we’re playing the hard game, Scot. I need to keep all eyes and ears on our enemies, even if they’re offering us peaceful terms. We need to be smart. Show them we can be friendly from a business standpoint… but also, show that we’re not the kind of people you can fuck with. We must destroy our opposition if we want to remain in power. That’s why I need to whip more informants into shape, like that man strapped to the chair over there, all in order to rip our enemies apart from the inside. You understand?” Rory obediently listens as he massages his own knuckles, casually cracking them every so often, as he still feels the impact of the stranger’s broken kneecap ringing through his hands. “Go to the Ace of Spaces in my place, Scot. Listen to his propositions, agree to them, act like you’re his goddamn fuckbuddy, I don’t give a shit… because none of it matters. We’ll storm his base whether he calls for a truce or not. I want his territory, I want the police and politicians he pays off, I want his drug routes, assets, smugglers, labs… I want his whole fucking empire, and I’ll do anything to get them.” “Luther…” Rory interrupts in his smooth voice, waiting until the blazing inferno in Luther’s threatening eyes dims to a dulled flicker, “…maybe facing a drug lord solo might not be the best idea. Think about it, what kind of message does that send? Without your audience, he might think we’re underestimating him, when we really should regard his business on equal grounds to our own… otherwise it doesn’t matter what I say to him… if he feels disrespected in any way, it’d be enough for the Ace of Spaces to execute me—“ Suddenly, Luther launches from the desk and aims the fire-lit end of his cigarette between Rory’s eyes. The ash falls away and gathers at Rory’s collarbone. He hisses from shock. “Talk out of line like that again… and I’ll shove this so deep into your forehead that your skull will be carved into an ashtray.” Luther’s threat is said in such a calming tone that it feels to Rory like he’s staring into the eye of a storm. Rory backs away instinctively, clenching his fists to his sides as he slowly withdraws his anger. And a wash of shame subdues him for even questioning his loyalty to the man who he owes his life. For Luther and his gang, Rory would queue into the line of fire so long as it was for their cause. For they are his family, and this dangerous way of life is all he knows. Luther finally dismisses him, but not before gently holding Rory’s face in his palms as a sign of deep respect. And… more importantly, Rory has come to understand that it’s Luther’s unspoken way of apologising whenever things get too heated between them. Rory holds on to those minor intimate moments to keep his faith going. Otherwise, what else does he have left? Rory exits the warehouse, without once glancing at the comatose captive lulling forward in his chair, and perches on his bike. He inhales deeply for a moment, gathering his thoughts together before fastening his helmet to speed away from the scene. For now, he has another man of obstinate power to face alone. It’s going to be a long night. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 14, 2017 Author Share Posted November 14, 2017 The soft clicking of a magazine sliding into its rightful spot inside of his weapon tore Kris from his thoughts. He was checking some of the weapons his cartel also carted around. Aiming and rearming making sure that the weapons were proper and could actually fire the way his clients wanted. One could say that his little cartel was in more things than just drugs and loan sharking but this was even more secret than his drug cartel. Only himself and Marc, his loyal dog, knew about this undercover trade. Then again the Ace was always paranoid of those in his ranks and kept most of the drugs under wraps too. His cartel may have been advanced but only those who have been in his service for longer than normal were allowed into his deepest darkest secrets. He was paranoid and didn’t trust others easily. Could anyone really blame him? He had been betrayed once before and he didn’t want it to happen again. His eyes turned to slits as he heard the hard metal in his hand click unresponsively. “Damn it…” his small frame shifted easily dropping the magazine within it and expertly pulling the gun apart. A soft buzz in his ear reminded him that his dog was waiting for him. He sat the gun down on the slick table and lightly touched it as if he was saying goodbye to a dear friend. He quickly turned on his heel and headed toward the door of the small room. He shut it behind him and quickly headed to his own room. The reason why his gun cartel was so…small was because he ran it through his own home. Just like his drugs which were stashed not too far away though that investment was much bigger and he couldn’t help but think that he was growing too quickly and bringing too much attention to himself. With a new player in town his cops were antsy thinking that they would be exposed for their bribery. No matter what the Ace said they were still worried about what could happen if they were found out. A loss of their job, their family, possibly even jail time. Kris didn’t care about them or their families long as they stayed out of his business. He quickly pulled a grey v-neck over his blonde head. He then slid his slender legs into a pair of black skinny jeans. He was too small to really wear anything else in the men’s department. He slid his feet into some black leather boots. His signature look, black gloves on his fingers and a coat around his shoulders. He was so unlike what others believed he would look like. This small man looked almost like a boy amongst his subordinates and if someone weren’t careful they would easily mistake him as a child or even Marc as the Ace himself. Didn’t that just fire him up? Being mistaken for a lackey that can’t even think for himself. He would die if he were disrespected like that, being as small as he was it happened often and he hated it. He was hoping that this new player didn’t make the mistake that too many already have made. Before he left his apartment he grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet and then headed out the door. Marc was patiently waiting outside in a sleek black vehicle with high beams and a solid trim. “Good evening boss. Ready to get this started?” The auburn haired man who Kris considered his only friend asked as he opened the door allowing for the Ace to slide into the seat beside him. Kris closed the door behind him and let out an exhausted sigh before nodding, “No. But I can’t change my mind now can I?” His voice was one of annoyance as his brows creased together in a frown. The Ace was not looking forward to this at all and he could see only two outcomes of the night. Either all would go fine and he would make some sort of agreement with the other boss or this night would end up with him getting hot-tempered and throwing the entire thing out the window and calling for war. Neither of these options was really what he was looking for. If he could stealthily get rid of the boss without much effort he would and just get rid of the other gang all together. Things were simplier before this and now Kris had to be smart about his next moves. As the jet-black car drove through his city the Ace of Spades sat pondering over exactly what he wanted to ask of his new enemies. He didn’t want to call for a truce because then he would seem too weak but possibly something as simple as an armistice for a month to get their affairs in order. Having to move from his main hub to hide his industry and his men meant getting rid of some of the space he so needed to run his large empire. His loyal dog seemed antsy as he watched his master ponder over what seemed like the question of life itself. He wanted to speak up and tell him that this would go as planned but even he didn’t know how the night would go over. The auburn haired man leaned forward as the car rolled to a stop in front of a small restaurant. “Sir? We are here.” He said timidly as he peered over to the Ace. The soft voice pulled him from his mind once again and he clenched his jaw. His eyes peered out into the world seeing the dreaded meeting place. Was he the first to arrive? Only he and he other boss would be allowed to enter tonight and hopefully they would enjoy dinner without any troubles. Only the wait staff, of course paid by the Ace, would be allowed to accompany them for dinner. He lowered his yellow eyes to his friend, “I’ll let you know if I need you. Pull the car around back. I’ll call when it’s over.” He sternly ordered and stepped out of the car. His blonde hair pushed into his eyes as he ducked his head into the restaurant that was oddly quiet. It wasn't that he didn't want Marc with him giving him back up but he did say no one but himself would show up. There were a number of people that would throw their life on the line for the small male but Marc wouldn't even hesitate to step infront of a moving bus if it meant saving his masters life. This worried Kris, he only had one good friend and he didn't plan to lose him that easily. Kris wasn't really kind to Marc less the two of them were alone. He felt that if he showed that he did care for his little dog that he would be a target to easily cripple the Ace. Something about him though made the two of them inseprable. The cartel was basically co-oporated by his dog so if anything did happen to the Ace he would be in charge and know exactly how to handle the empire. It wasn't until the two of them were alone did the walls around the young master drop and he let the real Kris out to play. It was an odd sight to see if one caught them in the middle of their intamite moments because Kris was also so voice of emotion. He tried to keep it that way not wanting anyone to realize that this small man did indeed feel pain when it came to those he cared about. The only person he really ever trusted was Marc and he didn't think anyone else could ever get close to him like this ever again. This was a reason why Kris kept the dog from doing something stupid when the two of them were doing missions just like this one. He didn't want to see his one and only friend disappear from the world leaving him alone. The owner greeted him with a timid smile, “Good evening Master. May I offer you a table?” It wasn’t really a question as the Ace simply nodded and followed the man to a small table pushed up against the far south wall away from the doors and windows. If shooting did commence he wanted to be well guarded from any unwelcome guests outside the building. He thanked the owner and sat down to await his upcoming company. He was on time, so this meant that the other player was already putting a sour taste in his mouth by being late. Maybe he got cold feet and wouldn’t show up anyway. That would make the Ace’s night because it would mean a victory for him and his empire. Then again the small male felt no threat from the other crew just yet, he felt that he still ran the city and this was true. He wanted to keep it that way even if it meant wondering what this other “boss” wanted in order to keep clear of the Aces investments. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 15, 2017 Share Posted November 15, 2017 Outside this independent Greek restaurant, Rory doesn’t doubt the establishment is chosen for their meeting place partially because it’s owned by the Ace’s gang syndicate. It’s a good idea to keep high-level business deals within associate territory, so that it’s easier to pay off any witnesses should anything go awry. Either that, or they do some damn fine moussaka. Rory parks up his bike and carries his helmet beneath one arm to the entrance. Pushing the door aside with his hands, still covered in his fingerless biker gloves, Rory’s immediately greeted by the restaurant owner. The feeble man isn’t fazed by Rory’s fairly intimidating appearance, as he’s incredibly aware of the kind of company who will be dining at his restaurant tonight. “Good evening, good evening… you’re here for the Master, yes?” He asks with a slight Greek twang in his syllables, and peers around nervously in confusion, “I was… under the impression I’d be serving for two of the Master’s guests tonight—“ “Couldn’t make it. Just me.” Rory bluntly explains, and passes his helmet over as well as his jacket. Though he takes out his lighter and a box of cigarettes from the pockets beforehand. Rolling up the sleeves of his dark shirt, Rory combs his fingers through his messy hair before glancing around the entranceway, “Is he here?” “Uh… you mean the Master? Yes, he’s been here for a while now. I’ll take you to him.” Whilst the owner shuffles to the coat rack, Rory slowly inhales to quell his annoyance. Luther hadn’t specified a time for him to arrive – only arming him with the location, a basic background check, and a mission. It already feels as though this meeting is set-up for failure, and if Rory doesn’t play his cards right, he may end up pumped full of lead by the end of the night. He hopes for the best… and follows the owner through the entranceway and further into the restaurant. Moody low-lighting. Ivy plants hung down from the ceiling. Extravagant brick wall decorations framing a large cityscape painting of Athens in the evening. And sitting beneath it all is a small wooden round table… with the man Rory is scheduled to meet. His hands are wrapped around a bottle of red wine, pouring the contents into two glasses, before he turns his head up to finally meet his gaze with Rory. And the bottle quickly stops pouring. The youthful appearance of this man doesn’t faze Rory, as he was briefed of the Ace’s size and age before coming… instead, it is the threatening demeanour he exudes from the furrow of his brows, the steady gaze that stubbornly holds him in place, and the slight discomforted wince of his amber eyes that Rory notices the most about him. Those eyes have aged him – barricading the world from his trust. It’s the same kind of eyes that Rory looks into every time he peers through a mirror. Sympathy. It bursts through Rory as if he’d been numbed of feeling upon first meeting the Ace. And as they continue to size each other up, questioning the level of threat each other are facing, Rory is stunned mostly by those eyes that seize him. As if his gaze alone emanates an aura of mature masculinity, it attracts his endless curiosity. Rory understands immediately how a man this young can carry the weight of an underground organisation – with the piercing presence of a leader in his prime, he wields the promise of a prosperous future. Yet his guarded poise contradicts what he shows on the surface. Above all, Rory understands exactly how it feels to act hard and tough, when on the inside… he’s screaming for a saviour. To say Rory is awestruck is an understatement. But he can’t let it show. He quickly regains composure, swings his hips aside to rest his fist against it, and takes a cigarette to his lips… all whilst he keeps his steady gaze to the young man. Not that he has much choice – it’s as if they’re magnetised together in an unbreakable electric forcefield. “Sorry for the delay. My boss won’t be attending the meeting today as he’s preoccupied with some personal matters. I’m Rory Lawson, Scot as you might know me by, but let’s stick to first names to keep this informal, is that alright?” He ventures to ask as he lights up the cigarette, “The reason being, I’m not much of a mediator as much as an… instigator, if you know what I mean. I mean no disrespect, because I don’t intend on inciting a war between our two factors, it’s just that I don’t personally care for false courtesies. Why put on an act, y’know? We’re not sales pitchers, we’re fucking drug dealers.” Rory’s low chuckle compliments the deep tone of his smooth voice, exercised by all the jazz singing in his spare time. He shrugs as he sinks to the chair on the opposite side of the table, finally glancing away to briefly admire the beautiful wall painting overhead. “So, listen, I’ll cut to the chase. We don’t want any more needless bloodshed as much as you do, so we’ll stand down our men if we can get a guarantee of half the Seattle territory. Half is a little much though, right? But that’s no problem, since this is still an open discussion, and like I say… I really don’t have any intention on starting a war. They’re bad for business. So if you tell me what you’re willing to share with us, I’ll take it up personally with my boss. As long as you know I can’t go home empty-handed today. You understand why that can’t happen, right?” Rory hopes that the Ace picks up the slightly threatening tinge in his voice, as he can’t let the Ace forget who Rory’s representing for that evening. If Rory wasn’t intimidating enough, his group would be underestimated just by the actions he makes at that meeting, which would heavily downplay just how terrifyingly crazy Luther can be. In any case, as an act of personal goodwill, Rory picks out his box of cigarettes, flicks it open, and leans forward to offer one across the table. Once again, Rory falls victim to that familiar gaze that catches him off guard every time he falls under its charm. Though it takes mental determination, Rory refuses to falter. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 15, 2017 Author Share Posted November 15, 2017 Surprisingly the Ace hated this restaurant. The façade seeming to be run down yet the inside so glamoured up as if the owner actually had plenty of money to run it and fill it with the most extravagant objects he could think of. Kris knew all too well that he was pulling money from this mans earnings every other month keeping him coming back to the cartel. It wasn’t all bad, the immigrants used him to generate fake green cards in order to stay in the U.S. and keep from getting deported. They renewed these every time they needed to and the cartel kept them in business. The owner and his family seemed to take it as a win-win situation. They always treated the Ace with respect when he was around which made him feel rather amused. Sometimes he couldn’t even get his subordinates to treat him that way and yet a man he stole from was more kind to him. Therefore he never roughed up him and his family and he usually came by to eat in order to help with the business. Sure it was faulty, he was just pulling money out anyway but it made him feel less like an asshole. Shortly after he had taken his seat at the cheaply lit table he called over a waiter. “Mind giving me your finest red wine? I do believe tonight is going to be…tense. Thank you.” “Yes sir, right away sir.” He said with a bow before hurrying away from the small male at the table. The Greek restaurant seemed to splurge on wine from Greece so when Kris did make a visit he made a point to ask for the best wine in the house. Kris normally spent his money on brandy but this would have to do for the evening. The little restaurant only specialized in fine wines anyway. The small greying man came back with a bottle in his hands. “Is this fine sir?” His timid voice filled his ears. Kris turned reading the bottle before smiling a little, “This is perfect thank you.” He spoke softly and took the bottle from him letting the waiter go about his business. After giving him his wine and two glasses he found himself waiting patiently for what seemed like a few hours. When it was apparent that his so called partner for the evening wouldn’t be arriving any time soon he popped open the glass and poured himself one. He had just finished pouring the silky liquid into his own glass and started on the next when he felt a presence in the room. ‘Finally…I was beginning to think I would be dining alone tonight’ He thought as he turned his eyes up to meet his companion for the evening. The sight before him caused his hand to stop pouring and an almost instant guarded expression to fill his features. This was not the man he was supposed to be meeting this evening. This was sure as hell not Luther and he knew all too well that the boss was standing him up. That moment when someone catches his eyes and realizes that the biggest cartel was being ran by a kid was always amusing to him. Though this moment didn’t arise here as his eyes unwaveringly stared at the blonde man before him. He had an edgy look about him that screamed intimidation yet his eyes shown that same look that Kris had in his own. Something fell over him, almost like a connection between the two them were made in that small moment. he male set the bottle down on the table his eyes unwavering from the man before him. He was odd, strange, and foreign to Kris. He didn’t seem like your typical lackey and he didn’t look like he should be following orders but rather making them. The ace said nothing as the man before he started speaking. His lips were moving but the only thing Kris could think of was his voice. He had a deep tone to his voice that had a smoothness to it not even Kris could compare to. He seemed to be confident in himself and even though this man smoked he didn’t have a scratch in his throat. After he was finished a sick smile formed on Kris’s lips and he sighed, “Are you going to let me talk or do you have something else your fat mouth would like to add? No? Alright.” He took a cigarette from the other with a gentle nod of his head as if saying thank you without showing such politness. “No you may not be informal with me. Ace is fine and we will keep it that way. I am the bigger fish here and I will make my terms and you, can decide where to go from there but you will not tell me what you want and assume I will go along with your flakey ass boss.” While he spoke he had leaned over the table with the cigarette perched in his fingers. His eyes were unwavering as he himself dropped his tone to one of intimidation and threat. His eyes lightly looked down as he slid the butt of the cigarette up to his lips and touched the other end to his new companions lighting it. He took a drag and then exhaled into the others face. He leaned back into his chair and smirked slightly. “This is my city. A boss who can’t even show up to his own damn meeting and sends his loyal ass kissing lap dog means you’re not worth my time in the first place. Apparently he sees I’m not worth his and found somewhere else to be tonight rather than meeting with me. Underestimating me will be your downfall.” He said pulling the cigarette to his lips once more. “As for territory, you can have what I give you. I understand you’re just doing your job but I have no time to deal with you.” He clicked his tongue his eyes closing just a little bit as he took a drink of his wine. His slender fingers seemed to be extremely pale against the red liquid in his hand. He was tired of being stepped on and his tone of voice, which seemed almost bored yet still threatening showed it. “I’ll give you the west side. That’s more than I like to give and yet if he wants more he can meet me his own damn self. For now that’s my offer. You get none of my assets and you should be happy I’m letting your little gang stay in the west side like it is.” He said sickeningly as he downed the last of his beverage. He didn’t like this already. The man across from him kept eyeing him, wanted to be personal with him, wanted to skip formalities and get to the heart of it all in one go. He found it rather sexy for some guy he just met to basically try and put him in his place. It didn’t work obviously but the thought was admirable. His eyes instantly traveled to the menu. "Ah I don’t recommend angering me, Rory…I have a short temper and I would rather not see you’re handsome face paved all over the floor so just agree to my terms and we can enjoy a civilized dinner together. Who knows! Maybe I won’t hate you like I do your sleezy boss” His yellow eyes traveled the menu settling on his usual order as always. He waited patiently for the other to pick out something to eat as he finished his cigarette and poured himself another glass of wine. Wouldn't it be funny if he got drunk on their first meeting? He didn't ever get drunk and the thought amused him just a little. To think he would let his guard down infront of this man. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 15, 2017 Share Posted November 15, 2017 Rory after taking off his biker helmet Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 15, 2017 Share Posted November 15, 2017 The arm of Rory’s chair creaks beneath the pressure of his tightening grip. ‘Fuck’, he curses loudly inside his mind, ‘should’ve expected this, calm down, calm down…’ Rory desperately reels back the anger swelling in his stomach. The words of Luther repeats like a mantra over and over in his head; ‘Listen… agree… act like his goddamn fuckbuddy…”, like sprays of water over a blazing inferno, these reminders only graze at Rory’s fury as it aches to break loose and silence his voice of reason. Ace’s frustration is entirely justified considering Luther’s blatant disregard of his efforts to meet. Rory acknowledges this and clings to this remaining sense of reasoning… but the urge to throw the table aside and push the youth to the ground with all his strength is almost maddening. Steadily, at every demeaning slight he throws at him and Luther, a link breaks from the chains around Rory’s patience. And he grits his teeth to bite back an audible snarl. This kind of humiliation is difficult to bear. Rory attempts to focus his attention on something else, so long as it’s away from the temptation to ruin the whole restaurant in a bloody brawl. So his eyes absent-mindedly wander to Ace’s mouth, watching intensely as his lips touch around the filter of his cigarette. Slender fingers pick at the remains, as his mouth sensually puckers to gently exhale the smoke in Rory’s direction. This is meant to be degrading, a direct insult to Rory’s presence and an apathetic attempt at belittling the offense… but instead, Rory shivers. The tension turns on its head in a strange and unexpected twist, and the air grows heavy and heated. Suddenly, somehow, even the most casual motion of Ace’s wrist – as he snubs out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray – appears lewd and seductive, as if his slow movements are calculated to appeal in a way to lure him. Rory’s focus wavers, confused by an attraction to the pull of Ace’s lips as it curls into a playful smirk. Rory consciously takes a long drag of his own cigarette before burying the remains in the ashtray between them. A confliction of concealed rage and undeniable lust wages an internal war inside him. Never has Rory felt so turned on from being provoked that the burning hatred fuelling his anger warps into an eruption of desire. Like the awakening of an animalistic impulse. Suddenly his appetite isn’t anything he can order on a menu. “…fine.” Rory musters, leaning forward to cup his glass between his long fingers, and swallows slow gulps of wine in an attempt to stifle a greed he can’t place. But the wine only strengthens the heat in his hips. Even as he lightly strokes the edge of his mouth with his tongue, licking at the wine coating over his thin lips, it all feels intensely erotic under the scrutiny of Ace’s fierce gaze. A chaotic flush flourishes over his face and exposes his thoughts, only for a moment. “I don’t… intend on angering you… Ace.” He fervently protests against his own temperate libido as he adjusts his composure, “It’s in all our best interests to come to civil terms with your group and reap the benefits as a reinforced syndicate. In today’s political climate, drug dealers are public enemy number one, so why fight a war amongst ourselves when the real opposition are the narcs, who, as we speak, jail our hard-working distributors under our supposed protection? These might sound like pre-packaged words coming from an ‘ass-kissing lap dog’, as you’ve so affectionately named me—“ Rory bites his lips together for a moment and deeply inhales, “But I mean it when I say that needless bloodshed must come to an end. Lives can’t be treated like cannon fodder… it’s wrong… and it’s just not profitable.” Rory’s low chuckle chimes out of nowhere, revealing a playfully morbid sense of dry humour that could only have originated from his homeland. Then, a surprisingly down-to-earth grin softens his otherwise intimidating features. Though it is a slight upturning of his lips, even a smile as small as that appears like a drastic change on a stoic expression like his. It exposes a mature side to him that accentuates a mellowed-out masculinity. His internal raging fire simmers to a gentle candle-lit flicker, as he reigns control of his temper once more. “On a personal note, I hope we cross paths like this again in the upcoming future, so long as we continue to agree on meeting places like this. Greek food is worth the dangerous company.” Although these are all very much pre-packaged words, there is a form of true sincerity etched within them. Rory has imagined it once or twice – if he were to rise to the top of his own crime syndicate someday, powerful yet trustworthy associates would be received with the respect on peaceful terms. But, unfortunately, he works under Luther, a sadist who views the entire world as a threat. It’s a wonder how someone so impossible to work with has garnered so much money and power… but fear is a powerful tool, and he is a terrorising master of his trade. Rory orders his moussaka and raises his half-empty wine glass to air, hoping to conclude with this business deal… until Luther commands otherwise. “West side’s in good hands. It’s been a pleasure.” Rory says, before his half-lidded gaze to the youth subdues him into a devoted daze. Then he speaks in a voice so low, the syllables are elongated in a slow and suggestive tone that rolls off his liquid tongue, “Ace. Of. Spaces.” Lingering bouts of desire spark to attention in a pleasant place in his chest, like a suppressed inner sensation refusing to be ignored and forgotten. It activates at the most unpredictable times from the most trivial things, whether it be the tap of his pale fingers against the table, or the drop of his white throat as he takes a drink… Ace triggers a lively attraction unprecedented and unrefined from within Rory’s depths. And from it, comes manic desire. A desire to destroy. A desire to dominate. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 16, 2017 Author Share Posted November 16, 2017 Kris had a certain…affect on people. The feeling he was gathering from the man across the table just proved that. Kris was the symbol of sex at the moment and he could basically taste the anger, tension, and lust wafting off of Rory. The words he spoke reflected this and pushed the older male further to his breaking point. He wondered what this man looked like withering from pleasure. The Ace watched as Rory put out his cigarette leaving his handsome lips with nothing else to do other than speak. It was clear that this man was confused as to why Kris was so…alluring. It was mostly something about it being his enemy at the moment and their tensions were running high. The adrenaline of a possible fight happening also hung in the air giving their conversation a hint of excitement. He enjoyed this undertone of excitment and lust that permiated the air around them. It may have been better that Luther let his lap dog join the party rather than coming himself. It seemed like the night was only going to grow more and more exciting. Hell the Ace was highly amused at the moment with what they were doing now. He could only imagine where their conversation could go from here. There had to be a point when the tension, lust, and overall want broke through. Where the two of them would have to give in. He could only imagine what would happen if the two of them kept meeting in this fashion. Kris knew it was probably short lived, there was no way they were going to just lay down and let him win. Luther wasn't that kind of man after all. He would fight to the death to secure the assets that Kris had in his hands. It was odd because Rory didn't give off a sense for wanting to start a war but something within his eyes showed an undying loyalty for the man above him. One that Kris didn't think he could even break if he wanted to. It was no doubt that the two of them could be a lethal pair if they wanted to be. But in order to allow that to happen they would have to set aside their rivalry and work together which by the looks of the two of them, wasn't going to happen any time soon. Kris could care less about the man, he was more interested in what he carried under all that clothing. What a shame that he covered it all up like that. The hunger between the two of them could be cut with a knife as Kris watched the mans tongue slide over his lips licking the red liquid from them. Everything about him was enticing to the younger male as he watched his fingers slide down the glass as he quickly began to speak. His words were deeper, huskier than before and dripped with his hidden thoughts. He watched as the man turned into a laughing mess in front of him. He didn’t really think that these words had any real sentiment to them and he figured they were exactly that “pre-packaged” words sent down from the boss to Kris himself. Rory could pretend to have some sort of sincerity in his words but the boy across from him was too guarded to believe him. The ace said nothing as he told the waiter he wanted his usual. He turned back to his companion for the evening and slid his fingers around his own glass holding it up. “If another one of my men die from your bosses men I will hold you personally responsible. You can bet that I will be hunting you down for breaking your word. Trust me, you do not want to get on my bad side Rory.” He said clinking the glasses together. He wondered what his name would sound like sliding off that mans lips. “I’m very dangerous company and this night can end in a number of ways depending on how you want it to go…” he sat his glass back down licking his lips before leaning a little closer to the other. “I could find a thousand more ways to spend our evening than talking pleasantries and drinking wine.” His voice dropped an octave as it slipped into a seductive tone. His eyes were watching Rory as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “I’m sure you have your own agenda, you can’t be so mindless that you follow this man without a question. What does Rory want out of our business meeting? Seeing as your boss didn’t come.” He said sliding a thumb over his bottom lip as he watched the man across the table. The boy was having a slight blast watching the inner struggle that plagued Rory., even more, ee him being a great asset and possibly even more fun as a bed partner. The two of them obviously were attracted to each other, but Kris was slightly hard to get. Many would jump into bed with him but none would fuck him the way he liked. He grew bored and often cut ties with people quickly. If he was unsatisfied he found himself growing angry and actually turning on those he drug to bed. The Ace of Spades let his thoughts travele to what Rory was capable of. Would he satisfy him? Treat him rougher than those who thought he was fragile? Or would he disappoint him just like all the others. Those thoughts were dangerous as his own lust sprung forward warming his stomach and lighting a fire within him that made him want to skip dinner entirely. Being a boss he could do whatever he wanted, when he wanted, with whomever he wanted to do it with. Long as it didn’t cause any problems, but who would know? Surely not Luther, less Rory told… Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 16, 2017 Share Posted November 16, 2017 ‘Act like a fuckbuddy.’ The devilish voice of Luther’s commands repeat in Rory’s mind, over and over again in a torturous cycle. And the heavy weight of these words begin to take form in an entirely new light. Fuckbuddy… it’s scary how it seems like Luther has perfectly set-up this invitation himself, as if he permits the chance if Rory will take it. As insanely tempting as it is, Rory firstly weighs his options – should he continue a professional and distant relationship, to take the safe route and play the game carefully… or risk his life to take advantage of the opportunity, and use it to get closer to the opposition? The decision becomes harder to make when the opposition affects Rory in a way that effortlessly seduces him. When his voice lowers to a tone that revives a lively flame in his chest, his heart raises higher in his throat at every inch that Ace leans himself forward. His loose v-neck shirt shifts lower, revealing more of his pale skin with a few indentions etched delicately over his chest. Rory’s lips slightly part. A fleeting image of himself invades Rory’s mind, as he subconsciously imagines his phantom hands lifting the youth’s shirt, to lovingly trace the scars with his fingertips… a heated swelling gathers in his hips, fuelling his imagination as it teases the state of Ace’s expression warped in pleasure, which Rory comes to desire… ‘Fuck… fuck… dammit.’ Rory’s half hard. He writhes in his seat, and adjusts his discomfort by loosening his tie and popping open a few shirt buttons. Cool air brushes over his prominent collarbone, and calms him down. The wine had made his head spin with ideas. He scolds himself for dropping his guard. Because he knows that when business and pleasure blurs, there’s a warning of potential disaster. Ace’s powerful status and his alleged violent temper can get himself killed if he isn’t careful. Though Rory is no stranger to confronting his death on more than one occasion, he’s always been tough enough to overcome it. But some things are too much of a risk to take. And also, although he’s a hard man… Rory is weak against intimacy. He’s never known any man or woman to trigger a reaction like this, even through his years in puberty. He’d never had the chance to explore his sexuality, or even got close to anyone enough to develop any kind of relationship, not when he’s spent his adolescence in violent fist fights and cold nights in detention cells. From this, he’s only known how to build an impenetrable wall to protect himself. Luther is the only other person who has accepted him without much judgement. For Luther, he regards Rory’s temper and fighting experience as a benefit. It’s a pitiful reason for Rory’s attachment, but it’s all he has – so all of Luther’s rare spells of affection, regardless of how half-hearted they can be, are cherished deeply in Rory's heart… whether he wants them to be or not. Which is why his world turned around the moment he met Ace. A youth who appears so confident in his sensuality that Rory’s attraction feels as natural as a moth to a flame. And suddenly, a lifetime of suppressed sexual drive teases an enormous arrival, like a crack in a dam. When the Ace questions him – “what does Rory want out of our business meeting” – he hesitates. Unsure of how to reaction, a daring part of him coerces him to respond honestly – ‘I want you’. Rory has a flawed habit of jumping on how he feels before thinking through his actions. But it’s more important now than ever to consider the consequences before he goes through with anything, especially since he’s unsure whether Ace feels the same attraction. Rory’s inexperience makes it difficult to know for sure – he has a hard time in most social situations already, so catching on to signs of mutual attraction is an entirely new feat. Even so, he can’t help mulling over one little detail: “…I could find a thousand more ways to spend our evening than talking pleasantries and drinking wine…” Rory’s foot impatiently taps against the ground in anticipation. ‘Could he want to…?’ he wonders with desperate enthusiasm, though he’s half-tempted to dismiss this as wishful thinking. Despite all this, Rory’s biggest dilemma is how personal this feels. Rory understands by living a lonely life masked by anger… how much it can hurt to expose your most privately intimate self and have it taken advantage of, or discarded as meaningless. To open himself up, not only sexually, but down to its core, as two human beings connecting to a deep extent… provokes a fear that chokeholds his vulnerability. Rory isn’t ready to expose that weakness, both to Ace and himself. And if Rory has judged Ace correctly, and they do share an affinity as two guarded personalities, then he wouldn’t feel right to force Ace into that vulnerable position either. He understood all too painfully how much that would hurt. …but what if something starts on nothing more than baseless lust? Criminal status aside, Ace is a stranger. Their business and their personal lives are one thing, but satiating their urges is something completely different. All that matters is a good fuck. Rory doesn’t believe it should be any more complicated than that. So long as he never grows emotionally attached to the man, Rory feels this could work out. If he’s aware of his own feelings, and holds back at the right moments, then he can end it at any time without things getting too messy… or so he believes. A tiny vibration calls to Rory’s attention as a message springs up on his phone. The sender is obvious: Luther. Rory politely apologises for his poor manners as he quickly opens the text from below the table. ‘R U DONE? NEED U AT DOCKS 4 SHAKEDOWN. UNCOVERED A COKE LAB BUT COOKS WONT TALK. NEED U 2 PERSUADE THEM. WITH UR FISTS. LOL.’ Rory’s eyebrow twitches. And with a sigh, swiftly buries the phone back in his pocket. He’ll reply later, when the meeting is properly at an end. Though, to his surprise, Rory doesn’t feel any intention to rush. Or rather, doesn’t feel like he wants to leave any time soon. This newfound feeling prompts Rory to answer the Ace’s earlier question, “I guess all I want is some kind of stability – a guarantee that no matter the complications that arise, needless tragedies can be avoided if we share an interest in the most beneficial outcomes. But it doesn’t matter what I want, since my job is to listen and do what Luther wants. Pretty damn mindless, right?” Then, he smoothly flips out a nearby napkin, pulls out a pen from his pocket, and scribbles a line of numbers in the corner before holding it up between two fingers. “But I’m not so mindless as to stick to the rules of the command. I can step out of line to take things further from time to time, so long as it’s for a cause. Take this. It’s my phone number. It’ll eases your worries if you can get in touch with me any time my boss oversteps any boundaries, and I will hold my hands up to those responsibilities, like you said… so let’s get to know each other a little more. If you happen to be in the area of the East End Raceway, hit me up and I’ll score you a good seat. I’m competing in a motorcycle drag racing event this Sunday. Might be fun, if you’re into that.” He hands over the napkin, though he draws back for a moment as a crucial matter dawns upon him. “Oh, just so we’re clear, I’m not pulling anything funny by asking you to come. This wasn’t an order from Luther. He’s not really all that interested in what I do outside of our business together, so he won’t be there. This is… just some hobby I do, sometimes…” Rory’s composure wavers as his voice softens, slowly reeling from his surprising sudden shyness. Though it may be due to having never shared his passions before, there’s a sense of liberation from revealing this small part of his life. It provokes the daring impulse to venture an offer, “If you get there early enough, I can give you a free ride around the track. It’ll be fine, so long as you hold on to me tight. It’s a dangerous sport, and I drive very fast. Compared to gang life, regular racing doesn’t have that same kind of adrenaline as ducking the cops, y’know? So I make sure to push that extra bit further for a thrill only we’d be able to handle. That sound better? Does it excite you?” The food arrives then, but Rory’s locked gaze never falters. For his first time asking someone out, Rory wonders how he’s capable of being so bold. The fault is entirely due to the youth. Ace brings out an entirely new side to him. It’s strange, a little terrifying, but exhilarating above all. He’d be satisfied with meeting this man only occasionally for business relations… but Rory wants more. So much more. The unspeakable truth to Ace’s posed question is in his actions. Though, if he’s to be completely honest, throwing aside the dinner and pushing the man to the ground is the closest truth to Rory’s internal thoughts. He only scolds himself to be patient, and to confirm for himself that what he’s feeling isn’t completely one-sided. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 17, 2017 Author Share Posted November 17, 2017 Kris could practically see the gears inside Rory’s mind working. As they sat across from each other the heat started to rise. He felt that if anyone had been in there with them witnessing their meeting they would be able to see the tension rolling of the two men in waves. Kris waited for a reply watching, as his companion seemed to mull over the best way to answer him without causing the younger male to get angry. Something inside of Kris started to flicker as he watched the man across from him wiggle in his seat. His yellow orbs watched as the man before him loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons on his shirt. He watched as his long fingers caressed his collarbones while absently making himself more comfortable. The more that the Ace saw of this man the more he lusted for him. His mind ran to why he was seemingly sweating. Was Rory nervous? That couldn’t be right he had to be feeling the way Kris was. Less he was reading the situation all wrong but something in his gut told him he was reading it right. The Ace was weak against men that treated him not like a child but like the man he was. He had seen so many different things at such a young age and he sure wasn’t inexperienced in bed. As a matter of fact he wasn’t inexperienced with life in general he was pretty well rounded. Something about Rory seemed to puzzle him though. Something inside his hungry eyes shown a mirror image of something in himself. It was almost frightening how an unmistakable force basically pulled the two of them together. That question of what Rory wanted from their relationship still rang in the air as Kris waited patiently for him to say something back. To do anything he didn’t care but the silence that sometimes settled over the two of them was deafening. Kris was worried Rory could feel his heart racing if they were quiet too long. A soft buzzing pulled Kris from their connection and he shook his head a bit and nodded at the apology. He didn’t care really though this set in suspicion. Of course it was probably the mans boss checking up on him wondering where he was. Their meeting had already lasted longer than Kris had planned it too though he was enjoying the company of Rory more than he had thought. He was in no rush to hurry the meeting to a close and by the looks of it neither was Rory as he slid his phone back into his pocket without answering. For someone who was so dead set on being loyal he wasn't being very loyal at the moment. Kris knew for sure that if one of his lackeys blew him off like that he would for sure have a word with them later on. Then again Kris had no real like for Luther anyway and wished he had found Rory before the other man could. He wondered why Rory followed him in the first place. He seemed to be a natural born leader himself with the looks to make those around him do his bidding. He wondered what kept Rory tied down to the sleezy boss of his who only pushed him to do unthinkable acts. Kris's thoughts were roaming from sex to business affairs and to mixing them both together with the help of Rory. His brain kept sliding back to how the man across from him would make him feel if he just delved himself deep inside him. How would their bodies meld together and melt into one another. How their voices would sound echoing off the walls of some unnammed hotel in the ungodly hours of the night as they both fought to keep the relationship a secret. How would it feel to have Rory to himself? Without worrying about Luther and the drugs for a while. Kris never let himself think about anything for too long. His mind was almost always in his work and he found it hard to slip away. If only he could find someone to take him away from it all, from his fathers work. He was wealthy enough to retire at the age he was now as long as he had the right person to do it with and he wasn't leaving his city in horrible hands. He never allowed himself to drop his guard long enough to let anyone in and he never dropped it for long enough time for himself to make business ventures outside of their meeting places. Specially not in the bed of an enemy. Finally as he put his phone away the man before him finally decided to answer him. The answer however, shocked him. Stability? That’s all he wanted? Wasn’t that interesting. A world without tragedies and needless bloodshed. Kris moved forward as he watched Rory write on the napkin before them and move it his way. What was this guy talking about? Getting to know Kris more, as in more than just business partners. Just as the thought had occurred to him that this could be a trap the man before him quickly countered it saying that this was something he himself liked to do rather than with the gang. Kris moved his eyes back up to Rory’s before moving to take the napkin only to have it pulled away at the last moment. This caused his eyes to flash up to him in a moment as he watched the mans lips move. He was asking him out right? Like on a date? Wasn’t that something that people who didn’t cart drugs across the country did? They were drug smugglers and this was a business meeting yet Kris stood there locked into a stare with his enemy who had just invited him to a rather exciting evening on a racetrack. As their food arrived Kris didn’t let his eyes waver. His fingers reached out and lightly took the napkin letting his fingers brush against Rory’s. He let them stay there a moment, “I think that does excite me. It sounds rather nice…if you are being sincere. As you can probably tell I worry about the true intentions of those around me. Many would like to see me dead and an outing like that sounds like a reason for me to drop my guard.” He said gently and pulled the napkin from him. “I have no reason to distrust you at the moment so I will take you up on your offer. Sounds rather…fun considering my other plans for that evening. There is only so many pounds of coke you can rustle around before it gets tiring.” He said with a playful smirk on his face clearly joking about the last part. “I do have a question…Why allow our relationship to extend past our meetings like this? I’m sure your boss didn’t imply that you become buddy buddy with me. I have no reason to think that you’re…carrying ill intentions but if I find out you do I’m afraid your boss will only receive your head on a platter.” He smiled cutely and tilted his head. He was hoping he wasn’t wrong. There was only so much reading a person could do. Kris could always be wrong. His eyes ran back up to Rory’s. He wanted to give him something too, something like what he had given. A hobby, a like, his name, or even his favorite color would be better than being this mysterious boss figure that he was clearly not intimidated of but mostly lusting after. Kris wondered why Rory would go to the trouble to actually get to know him rather than just throw him on the booth they were at and fuck him at this little restaurant. Not like anyone was here to watch anyway. Why was this man so willing to set aside their differences and take him for an exhilarating ride? The idea puzzled Kris as he waited patiently for a reply wondering if his thoughts were right. He couldn’t have been the only one feeling the electricity dwelling between them. Rory had to be feeling something as well. Kris just couldn’t believe that he was making up what he was seeing before him. Would it be a mistake to let him in? To show him sides of the Ace that not even Marc has seen? Would it be foolish to agree to this meeting outside of business and possibly spark up something rather than act on the lust between the two of them. Kris didn’t have the answers but he knew damn well that he wanted a nice fuck from Rory whether it was tonight or sunday or a month from now he was going to get it. He couldn’t deny the undying want for this other man and he wondered what this lust would feel like once satisfied. Would it still burn its way through his stomach like it did now and cause every muscle in his body to stand on end? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 17, 2017 Share Posted November 17, 2017 Before Rory answers, a rising itch in his hips hints at the hope that the youth is baiting him on. The blistering urge to come out with the truth — that Rory wants him so intensely — is so close to falling from his tongue that Rory has to swallow his dinner loudly, as if he's eating the words away. He shakes lewd thoughts from his mind as they linger to torment his dwindling sanity, and answers the Ace from the standpoint of a professional. “...think of it as a perk to becoming business associates with our gang. It’s not my intention to demand your territory without giving something back. We have connections to powerful sportsmen across the state and invested shares in well-known drivers, so if any of that interests you then we’re the people you should come to. Luther’s like a damn bloodhound when it comes to staking out a wealth in the industry that he can exploit. That’s usually where I come in, to help out with negotiations.” Rarely has Rory had to ‘negotiate’ as much as ‘interrogate’, but rarely has Rory faced off with someone as powerful in command as Ace. At least money-hungry corporates are easier to pay off or intimidate. Rory bites into his dinner, savouring the delicious meat between sentences. “So I figured… since I’m already involved in an upcoming event, partly funded by our own investments, why not share the benefits? Luther might be the one to make the demands, but I’m always the one to seal the deal with whatever I can offer. Everyone’s got a price, after all.” Rory states from experience between ravenous bites. Then he lowers his gaze a little to avoid directly looking at the handsome youth, as his confidence recedes the more he shares his personal inner thoughts, “But, y’know, you don’t have to come just to see me race. It’s just as fun to watch all the other drivers, and I didn’t intend to sound like you should come alone and unprotected—“ Though Rory would prefer it, if the day ever comes where he can take another chance to share in this exhilarating tension again, “I’ll be there to show you around the place, since it might be better for you to enjoy the event with someone already familiar with it. I can do that much for you, at least…” Finally, urged by an impulse to speak directly from his mind, Rory can barely hold himself back as his eyes slowly lifts to gaze sincerely at the youth, with a genuine tone to his voice that gives incredible strength to his words, “And also… I’m interested in you. Ace.” He words the truth in a way the man can openly interpret, as Rory’s too hesitant to boldly push any limits, yet too impatient to keep beating around the bush. He allows the tense air around them to ferment for a moment as his words sink in, before dropping his eyes back to his near-demolished dinner. The moment passes, and a cumbersome interlude befalls them, as if something in the air had shifted. It’s as if the lighting of the restaurant had changed, or the food garnered a different taste – the mood is so unlike how the evening began, as if all Rory's expectations of how he thought the meeting would go has developed beyond anything he could have imagined. Rory never expected to hear himself say those words, to anyone. Which is why he masks his discomfort and embarrassment by continuing his rambling thoughts aloud, “I… don’t really expect anything in return for that… actually I’m not sure what I should do next that would be appropriate for a situation like this… but, let’s be frank, we’re not exactly conventional people, so… I think we can let appropriateness slide.” Rory bites his lips together into a thin line, grasping a moment for himself to regain a cool composure, and pushes his plate aside to finish with it, “So, I hope I do see you this Sunday. It’d be good if we kept in touch like this to build a trust between our two syndicates. And, hey… if you’re free after the event, I’ll give you a ride to anywhere you want to go. That’s if you’re not busy rustling around that cocaine all night.” Rory had waited until Ace finished off with his own dinner before standing from his chair. He idly brushes his hand through his unkempt hair as his pretty smile counters the cute tilt of Ace’s head that had charmed him earlier on. Then he gradually stretches out his hand to shake, exposing his elongated fingers that adorns the scars along his knuckles, mapping the violence of his past permanently on his lightly-bronzed skin. “Suppose I should thank you for letting me leave unscathed. In return, if you do come to the event, I’ll make sure to show you a good time.” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 17, 2017 Author Share Posted November 17, 2017 The smell of food that wafted between them caused a soft rumble to come from Kris’s side of the table. He quickly dug into it finding himself too hungry to actually not eat it. He was often really horrible at taking care of himself. Often times it would be almost evening before he realized that he hadn’t eaten anything that day. Sometimes he didn’t eat at all for days at a time finding himself simply not hungry. It wasn’t like he was doing drugs to make himself forget it. Kris never took part in his products he simply just gave the people what they wanted. He just had a really tough childhood. His mother was never around to take care of him when he was younger. Often times when she was home she was being beat on by his father. If he wanted food he had to go find some or make it himself. His mother usually was spending time entertaining the guests of the house. Often times these men were cooks for his fathers business and they would often set up shop in their kitchen making it an ‘off-limits’ area for Kris. How could a child make his own food if he wasn’t even allowed in the kitchen because his family was weighing cocaine? Even after he killed his father and his mother was free to do as she liked she didn’t cook for him. By that time he was able to keep care of himself. He had been doing it for years before and he figured without his father she would be taking this place but it wasn’t that way. He celebrated his birthdays by himself, never spent any holidays with his family, he was always alone growing up. Even into his adult like he was alone but it didn’t bother him so much anymore. Solidity was one of his only escapes from his work. Without it he would be wrapped up in the drug cartel every waking moment of his life. It was too big to leave alone for longer than a few hours and with his guarded nature he never let anyone else around it other than mark. But even then he was still around when Marc was in charge of it. Kris’s mind started to wonder so it was a thankful distraction when Rory started to speak between his own shoveling of food. Both of them seemed to be hungry despite their stare down as the food arrived. His eyes moved over to the mans plate watching the food seemingly disappear in an instant. It was sort of funny but he had to remember to keep his mind on the conversation and not on Rory for once. Kris sighs gently into his food at the answer he received. So it was a business relationship all in all? How odd was it that his heart sailed thinking that Rory asked him Kris and not him The Ace of Spades. He figured it was too good to be true and his entire body language seemed to change as he ate his dinner listening to the other speak about industry and negotiations between power hungry businessmen. His eyes roamed up to Rory as he spoke realizing that this was something he was turning into a business agreement. He was permitting Kris to bring guards and anyone needed to keep him safe for the evening together. It calmed him to know that the man across from him was smart and dealt with people like himself often. It was even more calming to know that he wasn’t an idiot and knew all too well how the industries ran. Kris could easily pick up on the sincerity in the others tone wondering if he should actually believe it. Would it be so bad to let himself fall into a trance with Rory? Would it be horrible to let himself be Kris around him? Then again as he started bringing it back around to his work it made it feel like no, he couldn’t be Kris around him. “I…won’t give you anything in return but I feel you and I can bring something to this relationship. Whatever it may be, and both of us can take something away from it. I think I will message you later if I decide to see you Sunday or not. I think I would enjoy making a connection with you be it business or personal. Long as we can keep our work separate I think we will be fine.” He smiled gently at the thought of a ride to anywhere he wanted to go. He wasn't lying, he figured that if he could get up the nervees to message Rory then he should be able to show up to Sunday's event without a body guard. And even though he was stressing the fact he wouldn't have to go just to see Rory that would be exactly why he would be there. To feel that rush between them once more and see where it would go from there. Rory brought shivers to his body just with words and he wondered what they could do together under the sheets. Where would he take Rory if he had the chance to take him wherever he wanted to go? Kris instantly thought of a place that brought a smile to his face before he could properly stifle it out. It was genuine and almost cute rather than his hard, guarded outward appearance. Just as soon as he let it slip he quickly covered it standing with the other as he stood. Ace moved over stepping closer to Rory feeling that electricity between them spark up. He had wanted to be close to him all evening an now he had a chance to do so without feeling weird about it. He reached a hand out and grasped Rory’s shaking it gently. He turned his hand slightly his eyes wavering on the scars which dotted the mans hands. He must be good for one thing in their gang. Kris wasn’t an idiot. Most people with scars like that were interrogators and damn good ones at that. He pulled him forward just a bit peering up at him, “Maybe next time I won’t let you leave so easy. It was nice meeting you and I hope to keep seeing you in the future. Tell your boss that I didn’t miss his company as much as I thought. And tell him next time he better show his own face.” Fire flared in his eyes as the real reason they were here was on the surface again. He was still pissed that he was considered “too small” to warrant an actual appearance from the other boss. It was apparent that it still pissed him off though Rory made him feel better. He felt a gentle buzzing in his hear causing him to tilt his head to the side a look of concentration falling over his features. “Seems your boss has made a bust at one of the lesser gangs cook shops. Luckily its not mine, none of the men there will give you information about my work.” He dropped Rory’s hand as he stuffed his own back into his pockets. “I have to get going. It was nice talking to you…” he nodded a little and grabbed the napkin that was still on the table. He held it up with a smirk as he walked past Rory. He wasn’t one to let others lead the way. So as he left the restaurant he quickly started talking into the headset that was with him. Marc’s gentle voice was speaking into his ear as the car came to a stop infront of the restaurant. Kris made one look back at the door seeing Rory just inside before he smiled giving the other male a wave. He then ducked his head into the car before it sped off. Seemingly in a hurry to get somewhere other than there. It was true that the drug bust wasn’t his own and that none of the cooks there would be able to tell Luther what he wanted to hear. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t pissed that a bust had happened in his territory while he was making a peace treaty with the so called “kind” boss that wanted no blood shed. Kris assumed that by the end of the night one of Luther’s men, if not Rory himself, would kill one of the cooks seeking information about Kris. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 17, 2017 Share Posted November 17, 2017 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 18, 2017 Share Posted November 18, 2017 Rory hesitates in the entranceway of the restaurant as he watches the car pull away into the night. He doesn’t manage to catch a glimmer of the Ace’s dusted blonde hair in the windows. It makes the encounter seem almost unreal, as if none of this ever happened. But the aftermath of their meeting has left behind an air of sombre calmness. The high tension finally unwinds and subsides, as if Rory had been holding his breath this whole time. And in its stead, thoughts of Ace breeze through his mind. How aloof he is, hidden behind a protective aura of threatening intent, with an obvious hesitance to reveal his true self – a trait in which Rory relates to. How strange, Rory thinks, that two similar personalities manage to meet, and their initial reaction to each other isn’t to immediately clash in all the wrong ways. Instead, it elicits an urge within Rory to step outside of himself. He wants to know more about the elusive Ace – how he was lead down the path of becoming a kingpin, what brought him up to be so solitary, even trivial things like his likes and his dislikes… his past and his present… Rory wants to know more. When he peers to his hands as he shoves on his gloves, Rory is reminded of their handshake. He was nearly pushed over the edge of insanity when Ace took that opportunity to reel him in close. From that, Rory could see him more clearly, as the youth probed him with his scrutinising gaze – the crystals in his eyes tucked seductively beneath his heavy-lids that better suited the bedroom. Rory shudders a sigh, wanting him so much more. His hands sting with the fresh memory of his touch, making him painfully conscious of the lingering heat in his palm. How pathetic, Rory felt, that he clings on to this lasting warmth. It’s similar to the way he reacts to Luther’s rare affection, but in a much different way – because there is an obviously different feeling in the style the Ace had handles him, packing a foreign intimacy that Rory’s been deprived of for so long. Shuffling into his jacket and exiting the restaurant, Rory perches on the seat of his bike and flicks out another cigarette to suck on. The swirling smoke calms his mind, and he thinks back to this encounter in a sombre tone. Images appear to form in his thoughts of all the qualities that stuck with him – the eyes of the youth that had first captured him, the overwhelming sensuality that overloaded Rory’s senses, and the commanding manner of his threats that made Rory internally seethe… Rory stares in wonder at himself in the reflection of a puddle. Most of all, he discovers an underlying delight in silencing the youth with his mouth in his most lewd fantasies, and stripping him bare to reveal and explore his erotic body with his tongue as punishment. He expected the abuse he received during the meeting, since Luther had shafted the Ace, and Rory had to unfortunately bear the brunt of the negotiation. But he never expected the overwhelming sexual attraction that burst from it. If the Ace had been any other person, Rory would have drawn his sword early on and interrogated the man as he had done to so many others before… but partly due to Luther’s command to keep it civil, he was proud to have kept his temper under control, though he was completely stunned by the desire that had replaced it. However, Rory still has enough anger left over, and he needs to vent. After he flicks the finished cigarette to the ground, he pulls his phone from his pocket and calls up Luther. He answers surprisingly fast, “Scot! About time. You coming down to the docks or what?” “Were you really infiltrating enemy base while I was literally sitting across from their boss?” Rory wastes no time in getting right into the core of his frustration, “If that coke lab you busted had been run by the Ace of Spades, I wouldn’t be walking out of this restaurant alive right now.” “Chill, alright? Jesus fucking Christ, Scot. Have a little more faith in me than that. Nothing bad happened in the end… did it?” Rory feels his eyebrow instinctively twitch as he caught on to the questionable tone at the end of that sentence, but lets it go with a slow sigh, “No, nothing happened. I just told him everything he wanted to hear, like you told me to do. Acted like his fuckbuddy and all.” Luther nearly chokes on a cough, “Excuse-- what?” “That’s what you said. Listen and agree to whatever he says, even if I have to act like that—“ “Woah, Scot. I didn’t think you’d actually do it. I said I didn’t give a shit what you do. But, damn… whatever man, if sticking your dick in his ass will keep him happy and distracted for a while, then by all means, go for it. I’m not judging. It’s not exactly uncommon practise with the kind of work we do to get what we want. Still, I’m surprised. Didn’t peg you for such a slutty fag. But you got that fruity European blood in you, so I should’ve expected it.” The phone in Rory’s trembling hands is nearly crushed by how tightly he grips it in a fermenting rage. He takes a deep breath before purposely levelling out his voice into a monotone sound, “…are we done?” “My, have I touched a nerve? Come on, Scotty boy. Come on down to the docks and take out your frustration here. We got some fresh bodies for you to beat up on. And you don’t have to worry about pissing off your boyfriend – these guys are an independent group of junkies making a score of their own stash, but our guys caught one of them starting to sell. And what kind of big corporations would we be if we didn’t stamp out competition early before it catches on? We’re the Starbucks of the drug world, man.” That’s when Rory recognises the quickening slur of Luther’s tone of voice, and confirms that Luther had personally tested out the junkie’s products while he was there. Though Rory never gave in to the pressure of using the drugs they peddled out to the public, Luther welcomes the opportunity whenever it comes. The downside is that it fuels Luther’s cruelty all the more, as he flies off the wall with insane commands that Rory can barely keep up with. Only once had Rory confronted Luther about his addiction… but that didn’t exactly end well for him. Rory warms up his bike by revving the engine a couple times, before speeding towards the direction of the docks. ~~ It turned out that the girlfriend of one of the junkies was the daughter of a rich mogul, and had been using one of her own boats to sail to uncharted waters for her boyfriend and their friends to cook on. Seemed like a smart enough idea for Luther to forcibly take over the operation. He offered them all permanent jobs to cook for him while Luther’s gang handles the finances and distribution. Just like a legitimate business deal. But they didn’t exactly have much choice when Rory was ordered to threaten them into submission. This lasted until light began to rise above the city skyline. It’s the crack of dawn when Rory returns to his apartment. He drags his heavy feet to the bathroom, and showers to wash away any dried blood that had sprayed on his skin from his earlier confrontation. Those junkies didn’t take too much time to submit… but they weren’t much of a challenge against Rory’s incredible strength. Freshly cleaned and shaven, Rory doesn’t bother putting on any clothes as he walks through to his bedroom. When he’s completely alone, Rory’s comfortable in his own skin. Passing by a full-length mirror hung on the wall, Rory surveys himself for a moment – he’s well-built for a man of his stature, with prominently detailed muscles over his arms and his chest, all the way down to his abdomen and his legs. It’s a body of a lean athlete, well-endowed in every angle, and where it counts. He flicks his phone on to the mattress and looks around for any spare bandages. His apartment is bare, void of personal possessions except for the essentials, but the small size of the room makes it to look busy enough. He takes a swig of leftover beer he’d left on the windowsill, and rests the can on a nearby table as he picks up the length of some clean bandages he’d found there. And he begins wrapping his stinging knuckles with the entire length, all whilst his eyes glance to the soundless phone. ‘…will he text this early in the morning?’ Rory wonders incessantly. So many thoughts of the youth had been plaguing him all night. He’d not once left his mind since their meeting. His presence was like a planted seed in Rory’s conscience, which had only grown stronger the longer that time went on. It’s a foreign feeling, frustrating to no end, especially when he thought of all the times he had angered him… and all the times he wanted to respond with the punishment of his roaming hands clasping the youth’s hair, pulling him back and violating his exposed neck with his mouth… Rory stands and hits the nearby punching bag hung from the ceiling. He pours his energy into an adrenaline frenzy as he swings at the worn-out bag over and over again. All his pent-up aggression is channelled through his fists, and the flow of this stimulation ventures to his groin as those thoughts of Ace intensify, visualising the youth in more compromising positions with his hands wrapped around his hips, his teeth sinking into his shoulder, and his cock riding hard into his ass… Rory claws into the punching bag. And sinks to his knees in deep breaths and hot sweats. He needs to learn more self-control if he wants to play the game carefully. But with Ace working him up into a sweat like this, he knows he’s only inches away from tipping over the edge. And he doesn’t know if he’s prepared for what he’s in for. Even without the permission from Luther, Rory might’ve wanted to pursue the man either way… loyalty to the gang or not. Knowing this, a shiver runs through him – shaken that the man had affected him to that extent. Rory scolds himself to keep his priorities focused; ‘Don’t be a fool… don’t be a slave to these feelings, don’t let them rule you… keep it together… fucking keep it together…’ At that moment, his phone vibrates to life, and a message emerges on the screen. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 19, 2017 Author Share Posted November 19, 2017 Kris sat back in the leather seat of the car as his mind raced. He was being spoken to but didn’t really pay attention as his thoughts roamed back to the restaurant and the invitation that still lingered before him the next day. There was no doubt in his mind that he would accept it, he could send a message now if he really wanted to show his excitement but he wasn’t stupid. He knew all too well how to play this game and he wouldn’t tell Rory he wanted to come until later the following day. He didn’t want to seem like he was waiting around pathetic in hopes to text Rory. It would be stupid to wait around like a school girl for her crush to call. If it wasn’t for the rush in his veins Kris would have assumed that the man he met tonight was a fraud. A joke played on him by his own lackeys if nothing else. He was so…fitting for Kris that it was almost scary. The two of them had a physical connection unlike any one he had ever felt and he hoped that there would only be more connections, as the two of them grew closer to one another. There was still something that scratched at him in the back of his mind. What if this was all a set up? A trick to get Kris to let Rory in too close to find out his stash. He was Luther’s second in command and being in a non-business relation with him only meant he was playing with fire. Luther could easily find out, less he already knows, and cause a scene. Kris was heartless but he didn’t want to get anyone fired and often times firing with a gang meant someone turned up dead. Marc’s voice finally drowned out his thoughts as he started asking questions about the meeting. “Was Luther there? Did he show his ugly face? What happened? Did he threaten you? If that son-of-a-bitch threatened you I’m going to kick his ugly ass face in!” These words caused a genuine laugh to bubble up from Kris’s already excited body, “No, Luther wasn’t there. I met with a Rory…you should look him up for me. I want to know everything about him from his family life to his bills he pays. I had an amazing and exhilarating evening with him and I find him very…interesting. I would like you to pick up everything you can about him so I can see if his company is worth keeping. If I find out he’s lying to me I feel like I may take a visit to him.” He said a sinister sound sliding into his words at the last moment. Betrayal was Kris’s worst fear and he couldn’t help but think that Rory was doing this to benefit his gang and nothing more. Using Kris as a way to better understand his cartel and what goes on. Finding an easier way to figure out busts and runs on his base of operations. “So…the meeting went well? What did you give them to make peace?” Marc asked his voice laced with confusion on the topic. “I gave them the west side. I don’t use it anymore anyway. The cartel has been moved thanks to them already being there so I figured why not let them have that small amount of land we don’t use. I don’t plan to keep them here for long. I hate the idea of sharing my empire with the likes of Luther.” He spit the words out as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. Rory on the other hand would be a business companion he wouldn’t mind making a pact with. Marc growled in protest, “The west side? You gave them the west side? Why?” he asked confused at Kris’s decision. This of course angered him. With the adrenaline and electricity from the before meeting he turned over to Marc grabbing his face roughly. “I hope you’re not doubting my decisions. You may be my second in command but I am still the boss here. Don’t think that you can talk to me as if I was stupid.” He let go of his chin throwing his face from him. “Watch your mouth next time.” He said tightly as the car came to a stop in front of his home. He got out without saying another word to his right hand man. He hopped up the steps and let himself in hearing the car slide away without much else. His anger was simmering from the coke bust up the ways. It was on his property and he was pissed off. Sure the small junkies were a pain in his side but he was leaving them be in order to keep the peace and them on his side. Now they were most likely dead and no longer holding up Kris’s cartel. This was sort of a win win but had it been any other situation Kris would have had to pull his gun on Rory and shoot the handsome man. The ace moved to the basement pulling the pistol from his waist band under his jacket and setting it down along with the much bigger guns littering the table. He had to finish up his work here before he could even dream about going to bed. The gun before which was jammed still needed attention till it could fire and then he had to count ammunition for his next shipment out. Kris lets the all too familiar butt of the gun fall into his hands as he cocks it and rears back aiming. He was an amazing shot, and he never missed. He emptied the clip feeling its effortless firepower under his fingers. Every man had his own likes, Rory may enjoy riding but Kris enjoyed firing and this was his happy place. He peered over at the target seeing one hole in the target. ~~ After a much too long intervention playing with guns and counting shells Kris found himself in the shower washing the night from his skin. The water poured over his slender body washing away the scents of the Greek restaurant and with it the last lingering heat from Rory’s few touches. He felt like he had spent hours in the shower mulling over what he wanted to do about the man he had met tonight but still as he got out and wrapped himself in a towel he could not come up with an answer. What did he want to do? He walked to the bedroom his scar clad body dripping with water as he found some sweats to wear that evening. His room was slightly cold and it caused goose bumps to travel over his skin. Almost like when Rory had touched him, he peered down at his arm blushing slightly at the thought. Why was he acting like a teenage boy? He shook his head shaking the feelings from his mind and from his groin wanting to just relax for the rest of the evening and not think about work. Sadly as he was laying down for some rest finally the sun was starting to creep from the clouds. It was already 6 am and he felt like dying. He pulled out his phone and stared at it for a few moments. His eyes wondered over to his nightstand where a napkin sat with numbers written out on it. Rory’s number. His eyes closed hiding the orbs and their natural color from the napkin that basically screamed for him to type it into his phone and message the guy. His mind mulled it over some more before he opened his eyes and sprang up grabbing the napkin. His slender fingers quickly typed in the number, double checked it really fast and then started on a message. They stopped instantly as he realized he didn’t know what to say, what if he sounded like an idiot? Kris let his head hit the headboard with an audible thud as his mind seemed to turn to mush. Could he not even type out a reasonable message to let Rory know he was interested? It was not a secret to him that he was. His body hadn’t reacted with someone like that in a long time and he wanted to exploit it. To see where it could go from there, they were bound to fuck eventually and Kris had a feeling it would be one of his best. He let out a shaky breath as he started typing, “Hey it’s Ace. I hope that the invitation to go with you Sunday is still open. I think I could use a break from work for a while and have some fun. It sounds exciting after all long as we keep it business free. There is only so much work I can take before I want to throw something. I hope you’ll still allow me to meet up with you, maybe even go on that ride you promised. Hope this doesn’t wake you.” He hit send without thinking and instantly hit himself in the face. He was an idiot; he should have read it before because it sounded like he was fifteen again asking some kid on a date. He was so pathetic. He rolled onto his side hiding his face into the pillow a red blush covering his cheeks. He couldn’t deny that Rory had some sort of effect on him and he didn’t mind it really. It did scare him, if he was making him feel these things now where would they be in a few weeks or even a month from now? He didn’t know but he hoped that his text message didn’t throw Rory off and that he would still consider allowing him on Sunday. Kris was just starting to look forward to it after all. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 19, 2017 Share Posted November 19, 2017 Rory holds his hand over his mouth as he scans the text from Ace over and over again. Without the words being delivered by his usually sharp voice, the tone of the message is… kind of adorable, and extremely humbling. Rory wonders if this is a window into Ace’s true self; a cuter side to the man behind that impenetrable mask. The more Rory wonders this, the more his heart races, faster and faster to a pace he can’t ignore. What a thrill to discover a side to the Ace that he never expected to see. A tightening sensation grips at his chest, as if his own heart is clenching at this revelation. It only fuels the intense desire to know more about him. Hurriedly, he taps the screen to begin a reply. He writes a sentence… deletes it… rewrites it again… deletes that… and repeats this cycle for a solid half an hour before his message concludes as this: ‘Invitation is still open. Be there at 10am before crowd comes in. Keep your evening free. Will take you wherever you want.’ He taps the screen to send the message before the urge to delete it all and start from scratch overwhelms him. Then, he rereads the text obsessively, critically analysing every sentence in a way that makes him anxious. Rory hopes that the overall impression of the message doesn’t come across as too high-strung, or too enthusiastic. He doesn’t want to come across as lame, exposing how truly elated he felt when receiving his text. But he considers how short his answers are, reflecting his blunt personality that often conceals his embarrassment. As modest as he can be, he realises this can be frustrating at times if he’s not specifying his feelings. So, Rory bites his lips together as he slowly texts one more thing: ‘You didn’t wake me. Looking forward to seeing you.’ He sends it immediately without hesitation, and rereads it. Until it dawns on him how the intention of his words may be interpreted in a way he didn’t consider – he initially wanted to assure the youth that he hadn’t woken him up, and then separately express his excitement for the set date. However, with the blunt way that he worded his text, it sounds like he’s so excited for the meeting with the Ace that his excitement has kept him awake. Rory buries his head in his hands, flushing beet-red from ear to ear. It’s too late to correct himself now, he doesn’t want to come off as rude. But it’s not like he could deny the legitimacy of those words – he’s awake, and he’s excited. He just didn’t want to admit it out loud… or at least in a text. With an exhausted groan, Rory falls back on to his mattress, cursing at his own pitiful communicative skills. He’s usually too reserved to text anyone sociably, and he prefers calling someone up rather than relying on messaging, but even then he only calls people in terms of business. Rory lays his arm across his eyes, feeling the heat of his lasting blush biting at his skin. With the way he’s behaving now, Rory feels ten years younger; awkwardly huddling up on his bed with incessant thoughts of his crush plaguing his mind. It’s strange, but once again, exhilarating. Even as he finally drifts to sleep, the fluttering sensation in his chest remains prevalently active, enough to prompt the smallest smile to his lips. ~~ Sunday soon rolls around. The week passed by slower than usual to Rory, most likely because it was anticipated so much that watching the clock made time drag by, much to his aggravation. Inside the raceway arena, Rory perches absent-mindedly on his motorcycle parked on the centre of the starting line. He’s zipped up in a one-piece racing suit, coloured all in black with white and mossy-green stripes running up his arms, along the ribs and across his thighs. The leather is skin tight, hugging his lean body to an extent that accentuates his angular hipbones, the broadness of his shoulders, and the outline of his slender silhouette. He warms up his tyres with a few revs of his engine, twisting the handlebars as he scratches the wheels against the track. Though he doesn’t move an inch, as he watches over the spare helmet he’s put aside for Ace, left on the nearby empty bench. There are other motorcyclists, crew members and staff littering around the edge of the track, but not enough of a crowd just yet as the event doesn’t begin until the afternoon. And there’s still twenty minutes to go until ten. Rory’s heart rests in his mouth as he watches the clock. He searches around restlessly in anticipation. Familiar faces greet him as they walk by, as Rory has made himself known in the community, but he doesn’t stop for conversation. His eyes venture along the groups of people speckled around the track. The arena is so large, so he hopes that Ace can spot him in the most obvious place to look for him – at the starting line. He even revs his engine to garner attention to himself. Several strangers turn their heads to him, but none are of the face he’s dying to see. Anxious thoughts pop up every so often to torment him – ‘Is he going to back out? Has he changed his mind about coming?’ Rory breathes deeply, attempting to calm his heartbeat to no avail, and he revs his engine more urgently. As if he’s calling to the youth through the volume of his bike. Solemnly, he turns over his shoulder for one more longing look at the entrance of the arena… then his eyes suddenly light up. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 20, 2017 Author Share Posted November 20, 2017 It felt like hours and hours passed before Kris felt the phone on his stomach vibrate. He quickly picked it up and unlocked it before reading the text message he had received. It was, cold sounding and almost calculating like Rory was trying to come off less excited and more business driven. Kris sighed, had he read their initial meeting all wrong? He watched the phone light up once more as another text came through. The next reply was even shorter and he sighed the frustration mounting in his heart. His chest felt heavy as the thoughts of reading too much into the others feelings started to weigh on him. Kris didn’t think he was thinking this all up but he couldn’t help but think that he might be. Just like he couldn’t help but think that Rory was using him for a business venture. Then again the thought that Rory was awake at 6am anyway seemed to shock him. Why was he up so early in the first place? Kris thoughts were rolling in his mind. What if it was because Rory was staying up waiting for him to message him? Kris felt his heart flutter just a bit and his cheeks heat up. Wouldn’t that be interesting. Though it was something he didn’t think was the case, Luther probably had him up all night anyway. No gangster was ever good at communicating how they felt so Kris took this as a reason why he felt this way. He sat his phone on the nightstand as he got more comfortable in his bed. He couldn’t help but wonder what Sunday would hold for him and his new friend. Kris felt like he was crushing on someone for the most innocent, yet not so innocent, reasons. Sure he wanted to sleep with Rory but as he kept thinking about it his whole being wanted to better understand and get to know this man rather than just sleep with him. His eyes closed letting out a gentle yet satisfied sigh as he could only think and dream about what the future held for the two of them. He didn’t let his mind wonder to bad thoughts or the alternative endings to their relationship. Instead he kept his mind clean of these thoughts and let his mind drift into a dreamlike state. He didn’t want to take this bad thoughts with him, instead he wanted to dream of the good that could come from this. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kris felt like his week flew by. He wasn’t plagued with any horrible messes from the other gang so he felt like he just had to deal with his basics. His cartel, loan sharking, and arms dealing. Of course none of these were easy tasks and he had to rough up some men but it wasn’t all that bad. As Sunday came up he had evidence of his week written on his healing knuckles which seemed to be cracked from the cooling weather. His car pulled up and he felt Marc beside him almost worried. “Please be careful. I know you asked us to stay away but we will be here in the parking lot if you need us.” He reached over and put an ear bud into Kris’s ear. “Talk to me if you need me.” He said before nodding to Kris. Kris sighed shakily as he peered down at himself. It was idiotic to think he was worried about his appearance but he figured if Rory enjoyed his last outfit this one would be no different. His v-neck was still present this time a grey one with black jeans and a black leather jacket. His eyes ran to Marc and he sighed gently, “Can you walk me in…? I don’t want to go in alone. I’ve only been to one of these events before and I’m afraid I will be lost.” He said nervousness flushing his cheeks as he gets out of the car and leaves it open for Marc. A caring smile followed and Marc nodded getting out of the car and sliding an arm around Kris, “You look amazing. I’ve never seen you this worried before. Did this guy really get to you?” Kris nodded and ran a hand through his hair before checking his watch. They were about five minutes early so it wasn’t too bad. He peered over to the entrance before heading in that direction with Marc at his six. He could hear the sounds of engines in the night sky which was bright with the arena lights. “I don’t think he got to me as much as I got to him…but he’s been on my mind all week.” He said his fingers picking at the broken skin on his knuckles realizing that Rory will notice this. He kicked himself, he hated coming off as the mean mafia boss but that’s exactly what he was. Mean, cruel, and he would do anything to further his work. Marc guided Kris to the ticket booth gathering them both one. He decided he would stay considering Rory wouldn’t be able to see Kris until it was over anyway. He helped Kris into the arena as the younger man seemed to light up at the excitement. Kris wasn’t as excited until his eyes followed the sound of the bikes. They lit up as his eyes fell on a rather familiar face and a smile came to his lips. But not a big one like he would like to have shown. He waved to Rory before motioning to Marc pointing him out. Marc seemed to look him up and down before nodding. He moved to Kris and spoke to him rather quietly, “He is…attractive.” Kris smirked and peered at Marc, “I called dibs. Though…I can’t say that suit doesn’t hug him in all the right spots…” They walked to their seats as the timer for the race ticked down. Waves of people started to file in and Kris couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder back to Rory. It was like it was crack to his eyes and he couldn’t help but venture to the man who’s body was accented by a rather alluring outfit. He was sexy and Kris, not even Marc, could say otherwise. As they took their seats an announcer came on calling for five minutes to the race. Thousands of people had to be there and they had rather good seats. It wasn’t like Kris was poor so if he wanted to he could walk up to the borders and talk to Rory if he came over. God wouldn’t that be just perfect? He could eye his body up close before he got all sweaty from the race. Then again maybe Kris wouldn’t mind seeing Rory all hot and bothered. His thoughts were roaming as Marc spoke to him here and there making comments about work. Kris couldn’t let his mind waver from anything other than the man perched on his bike revving the engine and waiting for the race to begin. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 20, 2017 Share Posted November 20, 2017 Rory swallows hard. He notices Ace the moment he walks in. That dusty blond hair and confident demeanour makes him stand out above the rest. Though he turns his head erratically around the arena, most likely to find his bearings, he takes steps as if he owns the earth he walks on. Rory is captivated by that kind of fearlessness. And familiar itches activate in his chest, similar to the time they first met – completely stricken in awe of his tenacity, and strangely magnetized to the allure of his everything. Then, as Ace finally spots Rory on the track, Rory feels the shock of a jolt in his chest when the young boss suddenly waves to him. Rory was only just reeling from the fact that he came, to the point where the mere notion that he’s caught the youth’s attention at all has his fingers clumsily slipping off the handlebar. Rory desperately regains his composure, shaking off the nerves as the pressure to look good suddenly surges. In return, Rory goes to lift his hand in a wave, but halts as the Ace motions towards a man in his company. Rory squints his eyes as he scans the interloper, and wonders; is it a friend? Possibly. A bodyguard? Most likely. ‘A partner?’ Rory pauses. He’s mostly surprised that the suggestion even popped up in his mind, let alone how intensely bothered he is by it. Instinctively, he grips tightly on to the handlebars and flicks it too roughly. A momentarily rush of annoyance rings through his body, and he grimaces. If it does so happen that the Ace is a taken man, Rory justifies it as ‘for the best’. He’s already treading dangerous waters by inviting him here personally, as well as acknowledging the swelling lust he carries for him – if an obstacle like a boyfriend were to get in the way, Rory would use that excuse to back off and give up. But if that wasn’t the case, and the Ace is definitely single… Rory won’t have any more reason to hold himself back. His eyes follow to the stalls, closely watching the two men sit in the seats behind the meshed fences that separate them. Rory sinks his teeth into his lower lip as he catches an eyeful of the Ace in a really cool number. There’s something so attractive about a fitted-leather jacket hung closely around his slim torso, and something immensely erotic about the low-length of a v-neck that teases a view of his chest, that ignites a heated swelling in his hips and seizes his breath. Only five minutes left before all the motorcycles would take position for the first round of races to start. Rory fastens his helmet. He takes this advantage to warm up his bike, leaning forward to balance his weight, and sets off on a quick course around the track. As he approaches the road before the Ace’s seat, Rory slows down to a pace where he quickly uncovers the sheath of his helmet, and exposes an animated smile as he mouths the words: ‘You look stunning.’ He grins once more before flipping the sheath back down, and picks up his pace again to return to the starting line. He wanted to at least greet the youth in a manner that expresses his true delight to see him there... and to expose his thoughts on the man himself. All the motorcyclists enter the field, and each line up in a curved line along the track, revving their engines to warm them up, and scratching their tyres against the ground to feel for its tread. Rory rests the long length of his body along the seat of the bike, pushing his entire torso against the vibration of the machine in an embrace like a lover. It feels like any other day at the race – letting all his thoughts and worries wash away as his mind completely focuses on the impending competition. He races for the thrills and the excitement, for an escape from his unordinary life and the crushing pressure beneath Luther’s rule, for an answer to happiness in his unhappy lonely life… But this time, he’s racing for one more reason. He can feel the eyes of thousands on him at that moment, but only one pair of eyes bore through him more importantly than the rest. It feeds the overwhelming motivation to do his best… and even births the urge to vainly impress the young boss from an ego he never knew he had. Suddenly there’s a new exciting flare that adds to the pressure, and he revs the engine impatiently. The flag bearers wave the first yellow flag, inciting all the motorcyclists to crawl around the track for a short warm up, before their pace quickens in gradual intervals as they approach the starting line once more, where the green flag waits to be thrown… starting off the race at last. The event divides the motorcycling sector into three major races; the heat, leading into the semi-final, which proceeds into the final race to conclude the winner. The heat gives credible leeway to the style of Rory’s driving – precise and accurate, with a hint of intense danger as he leans his bike at such an angle on each bend, that he almost appears like he’s skidding his hips against the ground. The sliders on his kneecaps stretch out to glide against the ground, touching along the inside of the track as he gains momentum behind second and first place. The speed of his bike is almost so fast that it’s hard to keep up, as he shoots away before anyone’s line of sight catches up to him. He’s proving to be skilful and experienced, as he passes contenders in unexpected twists from his hidden techniques. He places second in the heat race, before gradually revealing his potential by passing into first in the semi-final. Rory makes sure to glance in Ace’s direction at the end of each race as he pulls off his helmet, breathing rapidly and deeply from adrenaline as sweat dampens his hair and his flushed face. Rory smiles in victory towards his spectator, grinning with a small show of his teeth as his heart pounds – revealing this fraction of his life to the youth is so much more thrilling than he expected. It places a significant sentimental value to the event that was never there before. The final race is called, and Rory lines up in first position. This is it – the race where all the contenders get fierce, and the pressure is boiling. Once again, the yellow flag waves, and the racers build to a slow pace in agonising anticipation to reach the start… and when they do, the arena erupts in a burst of roaring engines and excited crowds. The audience are on their feet as Rory battles for his position against the contenders behind him, dangerously closing in at every turn. They approach by a hair’s breadth, risking an extra push by leaning over at such an angle, they’re practically touching shoulders with the ground. The final few laps are approaching, and the racers are getting dangerous. Two bikers at the back collide and crash, rolling on to the grass as their bikes slide off course in a destroyed heap. They signal that they’re unharmed, and the race continues on. Rory feels the intensity of the two contenders right beside him in second and third place, ferociously throwing themselves forward as they pressure Rory to back down. But he refuses. He recklessly leans his bike over the bend to forcefully block them from passing… But the back wheel of his bike catches the front tyre of the racer in third, who hadn’t turned away in time to avoid the block. Third place steers awkwardly to the outside of the track, whilst Rory is thrown backwards, sliding painfully against the road, until he’s forced into an airborne roll towards the grass. A cascade of excitable shouts ripples across the crowd. As Rory lands to a halt, he doesn’t move for a seemingly long stretch of time… until he takes a moment to muster the strength to stagger to his knees, gathering his shaken thoughts together as he gives the A-OK. The crew salvages his bike, which thankfully hasn’t suffered too much damage. And as Rory removes the sheath of his helmet, he reveals a boisterous smile as he laughs at the whole thing. He’s never been in it for the win – the thrill of the race is what he lives for. Even in failure, he emerges from the wreckage with a sense of adrenaline that rouses his everything. Then he turns to Ace’s direction, grinning boyishly with a shrug, and finally waves back. ~~ Rory speeds through his interview with the commentators after the event concludes. The crowd disperses, but only a few stay behind to listen to the born-Scotsman speak briefly about the near-win if it hadn’t been for that final collision. But Rory sounds distant, borderline shy as he urgently speeds up the interview. Though speaking in front of hundreds of people is always daunting, he’s mostly adamant to reach his phone. Most of the arena has emptied already, and the parking lot restricted for racers has packed up to leave. Rory immediately texts the Ace, ‘Come to private lot in back. Waiting for you.’ He’s no patience left to over-analyse his texting habits again, and pushes his bike to an emptied area of the parking lot beneath a low-hanging maple tree, glaring in reddened tones as the sun sets over the late afternoon. He’s changed out of his suit into a plain shirt and black chinos, with a small wallet chain hanging from his pocket, beneath the hem of his zipped-up biker jacket in a fashion that makes him helplessly feel 1950’s American. Though he’s tucked in a thin plaid scarf around his neck, which adds a touch of his Scottish roots. As he waits, he anxiously wonders if the Ace had enjoyed himself. There were a few other car races between his own, so Ace had more variety to watch other vehicles than just motorcycles, but Rory hopes he made his races entertaining enough to warrant a good time. That final collision must have caused a few nail-biting seconds, at least. Rory still feels the stinging ache of road-burn scratched up his back. But it’s nothing he can’t handle. Rory leans casually against his bike with his phone idly in his hands. He’s nervous. Moreso than he thought he’d be, and it’s so odd. It isn’t because he’s about to meet up with a powerful rival gang leader… but because it’s him. The man himself, the Ace of Spaces… ‘but what is your real name?’ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 20, 2017 Author Share Posted November 20, 2017 Kris was never a fan of sports and he sure didn't find racing that exciting. However, this situation seemed to be different. It was like he could feel the excitement that Rory was feeling because every time he revved his engine Kris felt the need to have his chest tighten in exitement. He was excited for Rory and he wanted so badly to watch him race. His body was accented by the lines tracing his ribs, arms, and thighs. He couldn't help to let his eyes roam over his body. Without hiding from a jacket or bigger shirts Kris felt like he was seeing the male naked. The outfit was skin tight and he could only imagine the lines of his body without the fabric in his way. The next moment Kris found his eyes moving to the track Rory was peering up at them as if they were gods watching him. It felt like his eyes were sinking into him seeing everything under the surface. The feeling of his eyes intently watching him made him blush and turn away his attention moving to Marc as if he wasn’t taken aback by the split moment their eyes connected. When he brought his attention back to the track Rory was gone. Kris was confused and looked around a bit before hearing a bike pull up close to them but not stopping. A killer smile fell on Rory’s lips and it made him smile back blushing at the thought of the other man enjoying what he had decided to wear that evening. Marc caught this and he bumped shoulders with the other wiggling his eyebrows like it was the funniest thing on the planet that his all powerful boss was crushing on a guy who was older than him and lower on the pole than him. Kris hated being teased but with Marc it was a little differnent. The two of them had been together for so long through countless relationships, hardships, and drug overdoses. They had helped each other with everything and Kris always knew he would be there for him. They even tried dating once but found that it was far too odd and wouldn't allow it to work. Their relationship had to stay strictly as friends. This was mostly because Kris was frightened that if he let them date and get closer to one anothe rthat when it all went to shit Marc wouldn't be there to help him through it. He valued their friendship more than anything else and this was why they looked so close to everyone around them. This is why Kris didn't have a boyfriend because many times people saw them together and assumed they were a thing. This was of course wrong but he couldn't help that they had a connection. He could only hope that Rory didn't think like others did and assume that the two of them were an item. Kris pushed at him only to bring his attention back to the racetrack. As the timer clicked closer more cyclists came to the starting line but none of them seemed to matter. All were rather lean and athletically toned but the only body that kept his eyes was Rory’s. As they revved their engines and the flags came out Kris started to hold his breath. He found himself hoping that Rory would win. As the flag fell down he heard the bikes take off from the starting line. His eyes followed them only losing track of Rory once or twice as he weaved through his competitors. It wasn’t hard to find him when he got into the rhythm of things; he was in the front of the race and winning at that. Marc had to explain to him how the race worked and the different stages to them all but by the end of the first race he was clapping and cheering along with the other spectators however, he only cared about one person. He felt his cheeks flush as Rory won a spot in the semi-final. The cute little thing he did after every race made Kris’s heart melt. It was like he was the only person in that huge arena that mattered and it made him feel special. As the final race was starting Kris found himself on the edge of his seat hoping and praying that Rory would win. It would be huge for him to win and he wanted it for him. Wanted a better life than the gang life for him but it wasn’t that simple. As the race was coming to a close he saw everything in slow motion. Rory was flung from his bike in an almost inhuman way and Kris stood along with many of the others around him with a gasp in his throat. Yet his heart was in his chest as he watched Rory on the grass. The only thing he could think of was that this guy better not die on their first date, how shitty would that be? Kris let out a giant breath as he watched Rory stand and he groaned falling back down into his seat. A close call for him. He knew that racing was a dangerous sport but he didn’t think it had ever mattered before. But the more he started to care about Rory the more he started to worry about him and wanting him to be safe. The wave and the smile caught him off guard and Kris found himself smiling back at Rory as he made his way off the track. That smile was unlike anything he had seen on Rory so far and he loved it. Made him look young and happy, like he had the whole world in his hands. They watched the last of the race however, Kris didn’t find it as exciting as before. When it was all over he stood with the rest of the crowd but waited patiently as they filed out. He turned to Marc, “I think I’ll be okay from here. Thank you for staying with me so I didn’t have to be alone.” Marc smiled and ruffled his hair, “You’re fine. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do alright?” he winked to Kris before grabbing his hand. “Don’t forget to call if you need me. I’m right here,” He motioned to his ear and smiled before moving to leave. "I won't. I'll be smart I promise. If I need you I'll give you a shout. Thank you again Marc...I'll message you if I need a ride home." he smiled and waved to his friend as he left. He watched his back until it got lost in the sea of people all trying to leave the same gate together. Kris was more than happy to be one of the ones lingering around as if they were waiting on someone. Kris was indeed waiting on someone but he knew that he wouldn't meet him here in the seats. So he made his way up to the main area hoping to find some direction from Rory eventually. Kris pulled out his phone feeling it vibrate. A smile slid onto his lips as he read it. His head instantly snapped up looking for signs trying to find out where he was and where he needed to go. He quickly figured it out and headed in the direction of the private lot. He felt nervous and his palms were sweaty as he tried to swallow the idea that he was meeting with a rival and also a man he seemed to have a very good connection with. He walked through the gates his eyes moving around. He recognized many of the races from the giant billboard that had been calling off names with pictures but his mind was racing as he looked over them all. His eyes finally caught a glimpse of the man he was looking for. A sense of disappointment filled him, he was hoping to get to see Rory in his outfit. It was very hot and he seemed to have a pout on his face as he walked over to the other. There was something about how the man stood leaning against his bike under that tree with the setting sun behind him that made Kris’s heart leap in his chest. Seemed that Rory was in his own world so Kris smiled and slid his arms behind his back, “Hey? You okay?” he asked hesitantly his eyes peering up at the other without getting too close. He didn’t want to scare him but he felt like he was so far in his own mind that anything too loud or crazy would scare Rory into reality. It was an understatement to say that Kris had had fun. He had had a blast and would love to come again. But more importantly he would love to ride with Rory and feel the bike and excitement that he felt. Kris was never a rider he was more into cars than bikes. Hence his collection of cars at his home. He had at least 16 cars all-capable of driving faster than Rory’s bike. He didn’t like to brag and he didn’t like to street race but sometimes he would. Especially before he was rich he enjoyed going on the streets and illegally racing cars. It was a rush that was for sure. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 20, 2017 Share Posted November 20, 2017 The tiniest pressure of an approaching presence pushes against Rory’s back, and he seizes up in alert. He’s about to swing around defensively, relying entirely on his instinct to attack, until he’s halted by a voice he’s familiar with – ‘Hey? You okay?’ Rory turns over his shoulder, peering to the man he’s been waiting for. First, he acknowledges the distance that the youth had consciously made between them, which Rory greatly appreciates. If he had been too startled, and he had acted entirely on his instincts, the evening would have soured too quickly if Rory’d accidentally tackled the man to the ground… and not in the way he’s hoping for. Then, as the Scotsman finally has the chance to look at the youth up close, he’s ruined by the sight of his upturned eyebrows, and his watery eyes that possesses him – ‘is he... concerned about me?’ Rory flusters almost comically, clearly overwhelmed by this discovery, and desperately finds the words to reply, “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. I’m used to it… I’m just thankful that my bike didn’t get too wrecked by the collision. Though the paint’s been totalled on the right side. See? So, it’s cool, you don’t have to worry about me. You should have worried that our ride might’ve been ruined instead.” He laughs in a low tone, as if the chuckle came from a deep part of his stomach, before he stuffs his hands into his pockets and gazes at the Ace with a smile so small and genuine that it warms his eyes, “But, y’know… thanks for asking. I appreciate that a lot.” He reflects on this for a staggering moment; Rory’s rival is worried about him… the same guy he has incredible hots for is worried about him… Rory can barely fathom it all. Despite this disbelief, he feels happy. This lifts the awkwardly heavy tension immediately, as it now truly feels like they’re just two guys on equal grounds. Their criminal status is long forgotten, and the reality of their work lives makes no significant difference at that moment. Rory’s just looking into the gorgeous eyes of another human being, sharing in the moment of each other’s company as if the silence is accepted and conversation isn’t forced. It’s a rarely comfortable feeling. Rory wants to cling on to it for as long as possible… hoping this evening drags on and on… He clears his throat before he’s caught staring, “Well… I’m still healthy enough to drive you. Got you a helmet too, here.” Rory says in his hushed tone as he passes over the spare helmet he’s been holding on to, “So you’ve let me drag you here, least I can do is return the sentiment… I’ll let you drag me anywhere you want to go. Doesn’t matter where. I’m easy. You got anywhere in mind?” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 20, 2017 Author Share Posted November 20, 2017 Kris smiled a little realizing that he had indeed frightened his date for the evening. It was amusing to him and he moved his arms and crosses them watching him flustered and confused but trying his hardest to get himself back on his feet. The words that came spiraling out of his friends lips seemed to cause the amusement to rise. It was almost adorable seeing the man who was always so strong and tough jumping from a man of Kris's size. He could only imagine what Rory was like when he was working. His scarred knuckles were only a small glimpse into the work Luther had him doing and Kris wasn't sure he ever wanted to see that side of Rory. He liked the idea of the man with a boyish smile excited about crashing his bike on the track rather than a man who was heartless and hurt other people for a living. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was just a little worried when I saw it happen so I’m glad you’re doing okay. I actually was worried about the ride more than you don’t think I was worried about you too much. You are my ride home after all." He chuckled a little bantering back and forth with him only to turn and walk around the bike his eyes running up and down it. He then stopped infront of Rory closer than before possibly arms length apart. “I hope you will get that fixed. It looked much nicer before you slammed it to the ground.” He smirked up at him and turned his eyes away almost embarrassed. The two of them sat in silence for a moment before Rory started up once more. Kris seemingly unaware of his staring in the first place. He had realized that the young man had often spent many times eyeing him and he just assumed it was to try and understand him. His eyes were beautiful and Kris found himself being pulled into them only to blink away as he spoke. “Are you still healthy enough to drive?” Kris moves and lightly takes the helmet in his hands peering up at his new companion. The question of their next destination came to terms and Kris smiled brightly, “I have a place in mind…but you can’t tell anyone else about it. It’s my secret place…” he smiled a little and motioned to the bike. “Kind of in the wilderness, hope you don’t mind us going a little of radar. You think you can take the evening with me without having to be pulled away?” Kris felt himself moving a little closer to him his eyes moving up to the other males. He wanted to spend all evening with him. Letting the night drag on and on and hopefully finding themselves enjoying one another in more ways than one. “Its an outlook…about an hour out of town. It’s a drive I know…but it’s one of my favorite places to look over the city. Not many people go out there but I promise if anything goes down I’ll keep you safe.” He chuckled teasingly his cracked and broken knuckles tightening around the helmet as he hoped that Rory wouldn’t mind seeing the city from another standpoint with him. It was out of the way but Kris enjoyed the feeling of solitude he got from being out of his warring city for just a little bit. It helped him feel slightly better about everything going on and gave him a quiet place to forget his work for a little bit. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 20, 2017 Share Posted November 20, 2017 ‘A secret place… more importantly, his secret place…’ Rory’s mind whirs from the privilege. Only momentarily does his thoughts wander to Luther and the potential usefulness of this information, but only for a minute before Rory dismisses any thoughts leading to work. For the moment, Rory just wants to enjoy his time with the handsome youth before him. Though Rory couldn’t form a coherent thought process as the way he motioned around the bike distracted him. When the Ace ever-so slightly closed the gap between them as they talked, Rory felt insanely seduced, as if his movements were flowing like water. If they were to spend the entire evening together, Rory hopes to high heavens that it’ll last until dawn. ‘An outlook…’ Rory doesn’t mind the distance as much as the location choice. He’s shaken by the idealistic concept of it – Rory is often isolated and reserved to his own company when he can help it, so spending a quiet evening alone with this alluring man was the most idyllic proposal he could have asked for. Rory fights off a smug smile, as if he’s proud of the fact that he’s pegged the Ace right from the start, as well as delighted to find out more of their common interests. Rory nods his head, eager kickstart the evening as soon as possible, and barely keeps his enthusiasm hidden as he swings his long legs over the bike seat, “Sounds perfect. If you hold on to me tight enough, I’ll keep you safe on the way.” He fastens his helmet as he waits for the Ace to jump on. But he stiffens up unexpectedly. He feels the weight of the bike shift beneath him when Ace climbs on. And as he settles behind him, Rory feels as if their hips are nearly joined together at the seat. A fiery burst of heat ignites below his abdomen, and a rush of blood flushes over his face. It takes all his concentration not to focus on the evident bulge pushing against his lower back, almost neatly tucking into the curve of his ass, as if his jeans aren’t felt to be there at all. It’s when the Ace’s legs rest on either side of his own, and when his arms slither around his torso in a tight embrace, that Rory feels hopelessly ensnared by the youth against his will. Like being lured into a trap. Especially as he feels the youth’s hot breath gently breezing over his ear, and his fingers clinging into the thin material of his jacket. Rory feels completely claimed by him, and his breath shallows. To be embraced in this way is foreign and daunting… but so intensely exhilarating, and above all, savagely arousing. Rory mentally scolds himself to calm down, reminding himself that Ace is literally just sitting behind him on the bike, and it shouldn’t have that big of an effect on him… but even as he disciplines himself silently in his head, it doesn’t extinguish the blazing inferno in his hips that subconsciously leans back in response, shuffling ever-so slightly in a slow and gentle rocking motion to tease Ace’s cock rubbing against him. ‘It feels good… but I’d prefer the other way around…’ Quickly, he snaps out of his wild thought by swiftly revving the engine to disrupt any lewd fantasises from overwhelming him. Without turning to look at him, afraid that the Ace may see his flushed expression contorted in lust, Rory flips the sheath of his helmet up to shout over the engine, “…just tell me the way and I’ll take us there in no time.” The irrepressible tension is made worse when Rory has to lean forward to balance his weight over the front of the bike. His body stretches out in a way that lifts his hips so that he’s nearly sitting on the Ace’s lap, with the youth hanging on to his back in an even closer embrace. A shuddering hiss of a sigh passes through the grit of Rory’s teeth, swallowed up by the volume of the bike, and hopes he can endure this position for the hour long ride. He hopes, prays, begs… and drives on. ~~ The ride there surprisingly isn’t so bad, as the close contact between them becomes natural and less embarrassing as time goes on. Eventually, it flips around, and the tension subsides into a peaceful atmosphere as they enjoy the ride and the scenery they pass through. Rory’s proud of himself for handling this foreign feeling of being touched. It makes me feel more human, like he’s not such an alien anymore. Now it’s not so isolating to be with another person… if it’s Ace, he feels that same sense he gets when returning home. The directions have lead through long stretches of road with little traffic on them. Rory actually prefers roads in America to the roads in Scotland – they’re wider and organised into blocks, whereas Scottish roads are tightly conjugated, and levelled awkwardly into winding directions. In Scotland, he wouldn’t have been able to drive straight on for miles on his bike, reaching speeds unprecedented without coming across a turn or an obstacle. It prompts Rory to be slightly daring, as he turns his head over his shoulder and suddenly shouts to Ace, “Hold on tight!” As the bike speeds up more and more, Rory makes sure he handles the balance of their weight just right before pulling himself up, and lifting the front tyre off the ground into a roaring wheelie. The stunt lasts dangerously long, every now and again lifting higher against the winds, all for the chance of Ace crushing his arms around him. After a short while, Rory pushes his weight back to the front of the bike, and lets it fall back to the road. He laughs in that same adolescent way when he’d crashed back at the races. And turns over his shoulder once more to shout to the Ace, “So was that exciting enough for you?” He speeds up once again. They’ll be approaching the location very soon. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Shisu-Chan00 Posted November 20, 2017 Author Share Posted November 20, 2017 Kris watches as Rory seems to be mulling the location over in his mind. He wondered what he would do with this information if he was looking to hurt him. This was exactly why Kris told him of this place. It was secluded and away from everything and he wanted to have Rory forget about the thoughts of being someone’s lackey for just a little bit and think about being Kris’s. Kris let his yellow eyes venture to the bike as he watched Rory move his leg over it to get on. The idea of sitting behind this man pushed up against him by his strength to hold on and not fly off meant much more to him than just that. This was intimate for their first outing together. Kris smiled a little and pulled the helmet on before placing a hand on Rory’s shoulder. He swung his own leg over being smaller than Rory it was kind of difficult. He felt the motion under his legs as he got situated. He let go of his shoulders and moved closer to him sliding his butt up the seat so he was pressed firmly against Rory’s back. He let out a hesitant sigh as he let his arms slide around the males torso. His fingers tightened in his shirt as he prepared for their little outing to begin. He tried to ignore the fact that his cock was basically pressed against Rory and if he so much as got slightly aroused the other man would be able to feel it. He tried to put this thought in the back of his mind as his own fire began to grow in the bottom of his stomach. The shift brought about a gentle groan covered up by the sound of the bike under them. Of course Rory had to tease him like that, if the roles were reversed Kris probably would have done the same. He moved back just slightly and tightens his hands in Rory’s shirt as the sensation slowly leaves him. He had to breathe in and out to try and calm himself as he snuggled up to Rory once more. As Rory leans forward shifting his weight to start up the bike and get on their way. It was…annoyingly inaccurate and wrong. He felt so weird in this position rather having Rory behind him instead but as the two of them started off he started to get used to it resting his head on the others back enjoying the feeling of the wind whipping across his body. ~~ The hour seemed to go by too quickly with Kris and Rory enjoying each others company. The position they were in no longer bothered Kris and it felt almost normal to touch Rory any way he pleased. His hands were against his chest holding on and his crotch was pressed right up against him. They could only get more personal by being naked so Kris became very comfortable sitting on the back of his bike. Kris could still feel the electricity between the two of them but it was dulled now as the vibrations from the bike seemed to meld into their bodies. Rory's thigh against his own felt natural and everything else did as well. He was relaxed and felt safe even though he was never on a motorcycle before. He felt that Rory wouldn't let anything harm him in that very moment. Kris of course still had his doubts that this was too goo to be true. That he was being used and that Rory was makng him feel this way without actually having any feelings for him in return. He was worried that this was all a prank put forth by Luther. It was his right hand man and he felt...naughty for starting to have feelings for his rival gang's lackey. Not just a normal lackey either but his loyal dog...Luther's Marc basically. Kris actually wondered if their relationship was like that of his and Marc's. He quickly discarded that thought not wanting to think about Luther, gangs, or anything that had to do with them less it involved Rory at the moment. After the initial thrill of the bike ride Kris found himself not holding on as tightly and peering around seeing the scenery he had enjoyed far too many times on his own journeys up to the outlook. It was until Rory yelled back at him did Kris tighten his grip unsure of where it was going. As the wind started to whip faster and faster around them he let out a shaky breath as the bike picked up. It was a strange, weightless feeling of being in the air. Yet Kris could feel in his heart that was now pressed up tightly against Rory slightly frightened that he was going to fall off. He was slightly worried that the other male could feel his thundering heart against him but he didn’t take much mind to that. The wheelie which was very unsafe in Kris’s eyes lasted too long for his liking and his grip tightened even more. His muscles that were often hidden seeming to push out as if telling Rory that he was finished with the stunt all together. When both wheels were safely back on the ground Kris sighed letting go of him just a little laughing with the other but a more not so happy one than Rory’s. It was quickly wiped away when he saw his outlook and he smiled brightly, “There it is!!” he shouted over the bike as he pointed out to the side of the road. It was a dirt road from there and he knew that they would have to walk the rest of the way. Which was fine with him, he wouldn’t mind being in control of the situation anymore. The bike would slow down and come to a stop at the junction and Kris got off first taking off the helmet and smiling brightly. “Hurry! The city is just coming alive..” he peered up at the sky which was now starting to show the first signs of darkness. “You’ll miss it if you’re too slow!” he was more than excited to share this location with Rory and as he walked a little into the trees he practically begged the other to hurry up and stop being an old fart. He liked to think that he was better than most because of his youth but it often was a downfall. Most people saw him as a child instead of as an actual adult. Kris ran a hand through his hair that was slightly messy from wearing the helmet but he didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t anything new to him and he was already assured that he was looking rather nice this evening. He had zipped up his jacket for the trip up so he took a moment and unzipped it before peering up the dirt path. It was uphill from here and he hoped that Rory wasn’t too exhausted from driving all evening to walk up it with him. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 22, 2017 Share Posted November 22, 2017 As Rory halts his bike at a nearby junction, he hesitates as Ace jumps off first. The youth’s immediate enthusiasm catches Rory off guard for a moment, and he has to remind himself that this is the same man who threatened him only earlier in the week. Rory takes a moment to recognise that intimidating persona in the expression of the smiling youth – bursting with an energy that Rory can barely keep up with – but there isn’t a trace of danger laced in those sparkling eyes. How thrilling, Rory finds, that he keeps digging into all aspects of this mysterious criminal, only to find himself continuously amazed with what he discovers about him. And as the Ace leads the way up the dirt path, Rory purposely lags behind by dragging his feet purely to tease the youth, bringing out more of that excitable personality of his. Rory can’t get enough of it, barely containing the will to restrain his lips from pulling into a small smile. This is the most fun he’s had with another person in a very long time… if at all. After the uphill battle, they finally reach to their destination. And the view nearly takes Rory’s breath away. Only a slither of sunlight remains over the city horizon line, bursting into a fiery cascade of atomic tangerine shades, and merged into the deeply expanding colours of the universe. The ground is littered with Seattle’s night life, serene like a sigh, a perfect closure for a Sunday afternoon. The length of the landscape appears to go on forever, and bends in a way that seems like the very curvature of the Earth. The standing Space Needle tower proclaims the city for its own, outshining the incredible beauty of Mount Rainier in the background. These landmarks always made Rory feel so alien, as residents were used to these sights, he catches a glimpse every so often and a stare lingers in awe. Compared to the mountains of Scotland and the aged buildings preserved from hundreds of years ago in his homeland, these city skyscrapers with updated architecture seems all too futuristic. But it never fails to daze him in admiration. Especially in the light of a melting sunset. Rory glances beside him, and his eyes widen. Ace nearly appears to glow in the highlights of the setting sun, glazing him in a deepening shade of fiery tangerine, whilst the shadows behind him blare an amazing contrast of indigo blue. He appears almost ethereal just by standing there. Rory pulls out his box of cigarettes to break his eyes away from the allure, and breathes in a deep pit of smoke to calm his thoughts. As he exhales, Rory’s eyes continue to trace over every enthralling inch of the city before him. In rare times like this, he feels a strange sense of belonging – as if the entire world is his home, no matter where he ends up. But then, he wonders, if it’s the company that accentuates this odd feeling, as if the comfort that Ace provides is enough for him to feel connected with the earth again. All he has to do is stand next to him, to be with him, and Rory feels fixed. A memory of a myth runs past his mind – the Greek tale about how humans originally had four arms and legs, and a head with two faces, until Zeus cut them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search for their other half. Rory never knew why this particularly story always stuck with him, but at this moment, he feels like he understands it a little bit more… He pushes back the mess of his hair, shyly ducking his head to the side as he begins, “This is a really nice place. I understand why you’d want to keep it to yourself. So… thanks for sharing it with me.” Rory takes another lasting drag of his cigarette, momentarily hiding his embarrassed expression beneath the curtain of his hair, and digs the heel of his foot into the dirt. “Do you often come here when you want to be alone? To get away from it all?” He asks, daring to venture a little more personally into the youth’s life. Then, Rory holds his gaze to the Ace to make him know that he’s listening, to show that’s he’s not half-assedly asking just to make conversation. He really wants to know this man. He wants to probe into spaces of the Ace that no other person has reached. Yet, he retains that little bit of distance out of respect, understanding how difficult it is to reach out as well as to be reached. But he never once falters in showing his effort to try. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
erikavendetta Posted November 22, 2017 Share Posted November 22, 2017 sketch of Kris smoking, Rory's perspective Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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