Happy Birthday Mae!!!! When I started this fic, it was supposed to be total PWP. Then I heard the song this is written from, and it gained what I thought was going to be a lot of plot. But by the end, it was pretty much all about the smut again *giggles*. These two just really wanted to have sex, who am I to deny them that? *G*. There are a lot of things in this fic that make me giggle, for no real reason. The way Marc's mind worked in this was VERY amusing, and of course the mysterious M and C who make an appearence *cough*. I had A LOT of fun with this fic, so much so I don't really think this will be the last we hear of these two. But for now, they are satisfied, in every way possible *giggles*. I really hope that you like this, because I had a blast writing it. And I sincerely hope I don't traumatize you with this *giggles*. Anywho, *hugs* Happy Birthday!!!!!
Love,
James
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Rating: NC-17
Actual Story Title: Son of a Gun
Original Date of Completion: April 2003
Pairing: Marc Denis/Jocelyn Thibault
Disclaimer: I don't own them, sad as that is. This is all fake, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind specifically for Mae's birthday, so don't steal it, or I will unleash a huge can of whoop-ass on you. Um, I mean, yes, this is fiction. So don't sue me.
Note: French translations in brackets.
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Sharp shooter into breakin hearts
A baby gigolo - a sex pistol
Hollerin' at everything that walks
No substance just small talk
Know why you feelin' on that girl's behind
You gotta sleazy one track mind
Working your work until you think you find
Who's goin home with you tonight
Oh, who you gonna give it to
Who you gonna steal it from
Who's your next victim...
Janet Jackson "Son of a Gun"
Used Without Permission
Look at him. So smug, so damned arrogant. With that stupid hair, and those stupid eyes, and that stupid, stupid smile. He thinks he's God's gift to women. Or men, he's not picky. Obviously not, since he seems to be hitting on both the man and woman standing in front of him. I can see the proposition in his eyes from here. But, both of tonight's chosen victims were completely oblivious. 'Hahaha.' The bimbo laughs. 'You are so funny, Jocelyn.' The musclehead standing next to her wipes at his eyes like it was the funniest thing he ever heard. And him, he just smiles, knowing now that they're his for the taking. He makes it all look so easy, like he puts forth no real effort; just a smile and a wink and anyone he wants he gets. He is so damned smooth, it's no wonder everyone falls for it. I only wish I'd realized that all before I was added to his souvenir drawer of panties, just another victim of his little game.
I didn't think anything of it while it was happening. At the time, it only registered in my mind as "Hot boy good, single baaaad." He was just so nice, and sweet, and that smile...It was entrancing. I was lonely, and just really wanted someone to talk to. He played the role of the good listener, and the happy supplier of alcohol. I knew after my fourth rum and Coke that sex was going to happen, and I was all for it. I'm a grown man, capable of making sexually independent decisions. I could've dealt EASILY with it as just a one night stand. After all, he WAS a division rival, that should not spell relationship material. But, it didn't take long for HIM to implant the idea into my brain. The more he talked, the more I liked what he was saying. He made it all sound so glamourous, like he could give me everything I ever wanted. By the end of that first weekend together, we were together. I was happy again for the first time in a long time. But in case you couldn’t tell already, that didn't last long.
Relationships in hockey are always hard, especially when you're separated by a few state lines under normal circumstances. But with all the travel, and the whole "division rival" thing, it got even harder. Our teammates weren't happy about our relationship, and they made sure we knew about it. Well, at least my teammates made sure I knew about it, his probably knew what was really going on the entire time. I didn't pay attention to a thing they said, though. I knew they didn't want us together, so why would I believe the things they were saying? Especially because some of the things they said were so damned outlandish, and just not anything I could see MY Jocelyn doing. Boy, was I clueless. Everything they said turned out to be true. He really DID have every goalie in our division thinking they were his one and only boyfriend, back-ups included. He really DID make it his job to fuck a player from the opposing team in every game he played. He really was a lying, cheating, no good dirty whore. I had never felt so stupid in my life.
The stupid feeling didn't last very long though, because soon after that anger took over. He had played me out like a fool. I had trusted him, let him into my heart, and he'd just used me. He said all this stuff to me; how much he loved me, how no one else had ever made him feel like I did, how no one else could work the wonders that my tongue could. But really, I was no more special to him than some completely random guy from some completely random team. Needless to say, finding that out pissed me off. I had let myself love him, even though I knew I shouldn't have. I told him how leery I was of love, and he made everything sound so wonderful, so perfect, only to snap my heart in half just like before. I'm not a vengeful person, but for that...I was ready to wage all out war, just to make sure he got his. That's what brought me here tonight. They were in town to play us tomorrow, and as far as he knew I was stuck at home with strep throat. He was completely clueless that I knew about anything. When he'd called yesterday, I'd played the concerned boyfriend route 'No Joce, don't come over. I don't want you to get sick.' He'd agreed, not that I expected any different. But, in his fake concern, and mock 'I miss you' garbage, he'd slipped up and told me his plans for this evening. I didn't expect that, I expected to have to stalk him from his hotel to wherever he went. Instead though, he'd made things easy on me and said 'Me and the guys will probably just go out for drinks then. There is a bar in the lobby of our hotel.' Little did he know, but he made my plans so much easier telling me that. Honestly, he created my plans by telling me that. Before, I was just going to wing it and see what happened. Now, I knew just what I'd do. And the best part about all of it, he'd have no idea I was doing it.
He was going about things as he usually did, or so I would imagine. A couple of jokes, a few smiles, a wink, and he had the bimbo and the musclehead eating out of his hand. Or so he thought. See, the bimbo and the musclehead weren't really interested. They were just playing along, pawns in MY little game. A game called Vengeance. The bimbo, we'll call her M, seemed to be garnering most of his attention. On the usual, she cut my hair. She was my relationship confidant, my therapist so to speak, so she'd been pissed when I'd told her about Jocelyn, and was eager to play along. And the musclehead, we'll call him C, was my mechanic when not acting as my pawn. He probably didn't care either way about my quest for revenge, but promise of a date with M if all things went according to plan had gotten his signature on the line. With them on board, my plans were set. All they had to do was seduce him, which should prove to be easy from the things I've heard. Then I would sweep in and get the revenge I sought. It was a simple plan, really. But that didn't make it any less nerve wracking sitting here and waiting for everything to fall into place.
You could only sit and drink so many rum and Coke's before the alcohol started having an effect. I'd already had four, and things were just about to that fuzzy state. The seduction part had taken a lot longer than I expected. I'd been a bundle of nerves when the night began, but as time went on I got worse, and now the handcuffs were burning a hole in my pocket. My body surged with anticipation, the thudding of my heart like the ticking of a clock, telling me how much time passed. Each pulse seemed like an hour gone by, with me just sitting and waiting, sitting and waiting. I was starting to feel stir crazy, like I had been locked in the same room for far too long. My eyes hadn't left them since we entered the bar, and the staring was starting to get to me. But thankfully before I had an episode of some sort, the three of them made their way toward the exit.
I kept my eye on them as I climbed from my chair, slipping my jacket back on as I waited for the signal. It came just as planned, M dropping her jacket as they neared the door. Jocelyn bent to pick it up, shamelessly brushing against C's crotch on the way down. I rolled my eyes at the sight, slamming down the rest of my drink as they made their exit. I waited a few seconds for them to be completely from my sight, then slapped a five down on the bar, and made my way slowly to follow them.
The noise of M's giggle filled the hallway, alerting me to their location. I walked slowly toward the noise, staying cautious in case Jocelyn's whorishness was less extreme than we'd figured, and the plan went awry. My cautiousness proved to be unnecessary though, as the closer I neared to them I could hear Jocelyn murmuring faintly in French. 'Personne ne m'a jamais touché comme cela.' [No one has ever touched me like that.] You lying son-of-a-bitch, you said that same thing to me. This must be routine for him. He probably has a script. Same script, different cast, every day. I might be doing the world a favor getting retribution like this. Maybe then he'll realize he can't just get away with fucking people over. But if not, oh well. Not like I care about the world in this situation. I'm here for my personal revenge, everyone else can get their own.
Peeking around the corner, I grin as I see the sight before me. M and Jocelyn stand against the ice machine, Jocelyn's back toward me, the two of them kissing furiously while C stands behind them, uninterestedly massaging the back of Jocelyn's neck. They'd succeeded as I'd asked in already stripping Jocelyn from the waist up. The waist down was to be left for me, but the top half would be hard to pull off with the handcuffs on him. And for revenge to be fully had, he had to be completely naked.
I pull the handcuffs from my pocket, readying them as I approach the three of them. C notices me as I kneel beside them, snickering softly as I dangled the handcuffs for him to see. I just grin, nudging him gently out of the way for easier access to Jocelyn's hands, planted firmly on M's hips. With a feather light touch, I drag my fingers down Jocelyn's arm, keeping the cool metal of the handcuffs from his skin as best I can with my thumb. It works somewhat, but not enough as he breaks his kiss with M and murmurs.
"Mmm, cela se sent bon," He murmurs, craning his head back to look at C.
[Mmm, that feels good.]
"Je veuillez vivre à vous, amour," I laugh in reply, snapping the cuff around his wrist.
[I live to please you, love.]
My voice alerts him to my presence, and he stares down at me in shock, making no move to get away. I snicker at him and roll my eyes, snapping the other cuff around the handle of the ice machine. His eyes got even wider as he stared at his wrist, held captive now by the bulky machine. He tugged futilely at the cuff, sending the rest of us into a fit of laughter. He shot glares at M and C, both of them laughing and rolling their eyes. When his stare traveled to me, his eyes softened and a meek smile came across his face. That was a quick jolt to my anger level, making me glare at him and shake my head. I shot a quick glance at M and C, nodding at them to make their exit. They did so with a laugh, C tossing his arm around M's shoulder's as they walked away, leaving me along with Jocelyn.
"Hi Joce!" I yelled, clapping him hard on his bare shoulder. "Fancy seeing you here,"
"Marc, baby..." He started.
I held up my hand to cut him off. "Save it. I know about everything, Joce,"
His eyes dropped to the floor and he sighed. "I'm sorry, Marc. Honestly, I never meant to hurt you. I..."
"You what?" I interrupted. "Just thought it would be fun to play Fuck the Central Division goalies? Or were you making a movie? Jocelyn Thibault does the NHL? Huge smash, I'm sure,"
His gaze lifted from the floor, his eyes locking on mine. As serious a look as I had ever seen was stretched across his face, which for a second tugged at my heart. I did love him, and I didn't like having to seek revenge like this. But, no one fucks me over like this and gets away with it. Maybe, if I thought for even a second that he felt remorse for it, that he really DID love me, I might change my mind. But just staring at him now, his eyes boring into me, his bottom lip quivering, I could tell easily he had no regrets. He'd be right back to the same old routine as soon as I was done here. That was why I had to make this good. It might not stop him from his extensive work as a cheap slut, but at least he'd have to think about me every time he did it. And when I'm done here, odds are that will completely ruin the mood every time.
"I'm sorry, Marc," He said softly, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "I never meant to hurt you. I love you,"
His eyes glistened, tears welling up around the pale blue. My heart screamed at me to forgive him, to trash all the thoughts of revenge and take him into my arms. He seemed truly sorry; his voice was filled with remorse and tears were now sliding down his cheeks. I had never seen him look so frail. He was such a vibrant person, eyes bright, always with a smile on his face. But now he stood before me with tears clouding his usually bright eyes, and his smile replaced by a quivering lip, trapped between his teeth. I could barely handle the sight. In that moment, I rethought everything, and surveyed all of my options. It didn't take long at all for my mind to reach a decision on what to do. My heart leapt for joy, and my mind grinned in satisfaction as I reached forward and wiped a tear from his cheek with my thumb. He blinked in surprise, wide eyes staring deep into mine. I smiled softly, stroking his cheek with the back of my hand as I stepped closer to him. A tiny smile crept across his face just as I slipped my arm around his waist, pulling him close to me and pressing my lips to his.
He kissed back hesitantly, almost in shock from the whole thing. He had a right be in shock though, after everything that had transpired earlier. But as in any case, shock was only temporary, disappearing as I ran my tongue along the seam of his lips. His lips quickly parted, my tongue slipping past easily and gingerly caressing his. Our tongues began their dance, writhing passionately together, interrupted only by my occasional nibble on his bottom lip. He whispered with each use of my teeth, his free hand clenching in the fabric of my jacket. The slight tug that provided served as reminder of my clothed state, and his inability to help in that situation. So breaking our kiss, I pulled away and began my disrobement.
I wasted little time in shucking my jacket, tossing it onto the ice machine he was still cuffed to. He glanced quickly at his cuffed hand, then looked up at me with a smile. I shook my head, smirking at him as I pulled my shirt untucked. I pulled it over my head in a flash, tossing it onto the machine with the rest of the clothes. He grinned as I stepped closer, grazing his free hand down my chest and burying his face in my neck. He ran his tongue along my ear, tweaking a nipple between his fingers. I shivered from the feeling, collapsing against him and wrapping my arms around his back. I felt him smile against my neck, then felt his breath on my neck.
"I love your chest," He whispered into my ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth.
I shivered again, nipping gently at his neck. "What else do you love?"
His free hand grazed up my leg, stopping at my crotch and squeezing softly. "Love this," He whispered, manipulating the zipper of my jeans.
He pulled the tab down slowly, lightly brushing his fingers against my straining cock. I whimpered softly, nuzzling at his neck as his fingers snaked their way into my boxers. His fingers caressed gently against my cock, sending more shivers coursing down my spine. In all of my anger, I'd forgotten how good he was at all of this. He was quickly reminding me though, wrapping his hand loosely around my cock and jerking roughly. I growled with each jerk, biting not-so-gently at his neck. He snickered in return, tracing his tongue along my earlobe as he continued his jerking.
"Like that, baby?" He breathed, gasping as my finger brushed against his nipple.
"I'd like it better if it were your mouth,"
He pulled away from me and flashed a confident grin. No more words were spoken, he simply nodded and knelt before me. His free hand quickly released the button of my jeans, and wasting no time he slipped his hand past the waistband of my boxers. He tugged gently at them, looking up at me with an innocent smile. I grinned down at him as I pushed jeans and boxers from my hips. As soon as my cock was in view, his hand was on it, jerking much more gently than he had earlier. I moaned from the feeling, bringing my hands to his hair and brushing through it softly. That was all the encouragement he needed, as he quickly replaced his hand with his mouth.
I clenched my hands in his hair as he began a slow bobbing rhythm, dragging his teeth lightly against my shaft. That coaxed a moan from me, and I thrust gently into his mouth. I felt him gag slightly, but he kept on, increasing his bobbing speed as his hands found my balls. He manipulated them expertly in his hand, his mouth continuing its blissful work on my cock. The dual pleasure sent shockwaves through my body, and my hips began a rhythmical thrusting. He lightened his suction around my cock, letting me take things at my own pace for a brief time. Sadly, that lasted only minutes before he pulled himself from me. I whimpered exaggeratedly, pouting out my bottom as I stared down at him. He just smiled, placing one last kiss to the head of my cock before climbing to his feet.
"As much as I love that," He started, unfastening the button of his jeans with a smirk. "You know what I want,"
I nodded with a grin, stepping closer and driving my lips onto his. We shared a brief kiss, my fingers slowly working his pants from his hips. I wasn't surprised to realize as my fingers slid the fabric from him that he wasn't wearing any underwear. He rarely did, hence his nickname of Jocelyn Commando. That wasn't always a bad thing. In this case it made things so much simpler, less hassle to get to the action.
Breaking our kiss, I knelt in front of him and pushed the pants remaining way off. Unlike with myself though, I pulled his completely off, tossing them onto the ice machine behind him. He looked like he wanted to object, but I cut any attempts off when I took him in my mouth. He moaned and dug his nails into my shoulder, squeezing a quiet hiss from me. He quickly murmured an apology, switching his hands from shoulders to hair. His fingers brushed softly through my hair as I slowly bobbed my head, torturing him the way he liked. He began to shiver as I lightly dragged my teeth, moaning and murmuring my name with each motion. He could never handle getting head without turning into a moaning, shivering mass, and this time was no different. I took great pride in that. But as he began to thrust gently into my mouth, I was reminded that he couldn't stay like that for very long, and I pulled myself from dick.
Climbing quickly back to my feet, I slipped behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him close. He leaned back against me, slipping his hand into my hair and grinding against me. I gasped from the feeling, burying my face in his neck. I began to nip gently at the skin, my fingers trekking toward his cock. He squeaked as my hand wrapped around him, thrusting against it and craning his head back toward me. We shared a brief kiss, lips meeting just gently before he pulled away. His free hand returned quickly to my hair, this time clenching his fingers in it and pulling my head down.
"Lube," He whispered, licking along my cheek. "In my jacket,"
I nodded, brushing my cheek against his in the process. I reached forward and grabbed his jacket, pulling it from beneath the mountain of clothes that had developed on the ice machine. I dug quickly in the pocket, luckily finding the tube on the first try. I squeezed it tightly in my hand to warm it up, it was going on a very sensitive body part after all. Not that cold lube would matter a whole lot with the way he keeps grinding against me.
Once I felt the lube warm enough, I flipped the tube open and squeezed some onto my fingers. I brought them straight to my cock and began to work the lube along my shaft. With my dick properly coated, I placed myself at his opening and began a gentle push inside him. I moved as slowly as humanly possible, sliding inch after inch into him as torturously as I could manage until I reached the hilt. Fully sheathed inside him, I stayed still, giving him time to adjust. My hand continued to move along his cock as I waited, his precum providing a silky glide along his shaft. He moaned and clenched his muscles around me, signaling his adjustment. That started my gentle thrusts, accompanied still by the jerking of his cock, and this time by bites at his neck. He settled into the pleasure with a load moan, collapsing back against me as much as his cuffed arm allowed.
I quickly found a nice rhythm, thrusting and jerking him off at a torrid pace. My pleasure was soon coupled with quiet moans, as he began to clench his muscles around me with each thrust. We began to move in synch with each other, both of us nearing our release. My motions gained in speed, coaxing louder moans and more clenching from him. That soon pushed me over the edge, and I lost it inside him with a gasp muffled by his neck. He was quick to join me in release, flooding over my hand as I thrust into him one final time.
I stayed inside him until I came down from orgasm, then pulled out with a soft hiss. I leaned back against the wall for a moment, struggling to compose myself and catch my breath. Once I'd achieved that I pushed myself from the wall and began to pull my pants back up. He took my place on the wall, yawning and wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Mm, you are so amazing, Marc," He cooed, resting his hand behind his head and smiling.
I smiled and grabbed my jacket from the pile of clothes atop the ice machine. Opting against my shirt, I slipped my jacket back on and zipped it halfway. He grinned and dragged his finger down the bare skin of my chest, bringing it to his mouth at finish and licking the sweat from it. I rolled my eyes and stepped back from him as he motioned me closer with his finger. He looked at me in question, raising an eyebrow and pushing himself from the wall. I could no longer contain myself, and I burst into laughter, grabbing the remaining pile of clothes from the ice machine.
"You stupid bastard," I laughed, tucking the clothes under my arm. "Do you think for even a minute I bought all your bullshit?"
He blinked. "Marc, baby. I don't..."
"Don't baby me you jerk," I rolled my eyes, walking backward toward the exit. "You fuck me, now I fuck you. How does it feel?"
"Marc, don't do this. Please, give me my clothes," He spoke desperately, panic obvious in those stupid stupid eyes.
I threw my head back in laughter and flipped him off. "I'll give them to you. In 4-6 weeks, be sure to check the mail,"
I turned and walked away, laughing at his fleeting cries for me to stop. This hadn't been my exact plan, but it all worked out great in the end. If this wasn't revenge, I don't know what is. I can't say for sure if this will stop his whoring ways, but I could really care less now. I showed him what happened to people when they fucked me over. And it felt good, in every way possible. And it will feel even better when I can pick the paper up tomorrow and read about the nude pervert they found handcuffed to an ice machine at the Hilton. Ah, revenge is sweet.
END
© 2003 Triple X
