FIC: Payback's A Bitch 
Title: Payback’s a Bitch
Timeline: The night after 120 the King of Babylon contest
Beta:![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
fansee Rating: NC-17
Summary: If he thinks he can get way with shaking his ass in front of every horny fag in Pittsburgh without having to pay a price, then the boy still has quite a lot to learn. Well, tonight, let the lesson begin.
Authors Note: I wrote this for the icon challenge. It’s the closest to PWP that I’ve ever written
He hangs on to you as you walk into the club. You pretend to be only vaguely aware of his presence, but as his fingers caress the bend of your arm, your hair stands on end. More than his touch, you're keenly aware of all the eyes that are looking in your direction. Something is different, though. It's the first time that you've walked into this place, your kingdom, that the sea of wanton glances passes over your form with little regard and focuses their attention directly on him. Little does he know but that is exactly what you have planned for him tonight.
The night before you endured the spectacle he made of himself. You made light of his subsequent coronation by turning your charms on the trick by
your side. You'd prove to the little blond that he could be, and would be, easily replaced as soon as the mood struck you.
He walked up to you after his audacious display of boyish loveliness with a smug grin on his face. You thought he came to seek your congratulations, your approval, but instead he did the unthinkable. He threw out a few lines of canned dialogue, and suddenly your trick left with him. The cub stole the lion's prey. You can't figure out if it makes it better or worse that it was your own words he used to lure him away. You found him later, tucked behind a darkened stairwell claiming his prize. To the victor go the spoils.
Earlier today, he walked into the diner to applause and endless requests to recount the details of his conquest - for some strange reason, you
cared. You actually gave a shit. And despite your efforts to conceal that wretched fact, you know the others could see it on your face.
This cosmic shift, this flip in the balance of power, has to be set right. You'll put the planets back into alignment, you'll reclaim your throne, and you'll let everyone know that you're the creator of this little wet dream on legs.
After making a quick stop at the bar, you lead him onto the dance floor and enclose him in your arms. You shift your weight from side to side, keeping in time with the music while he bounces and spins and twirls within your relaxed embrace. The lights flicker across his milky skin, and he
takes on the colors of the room - blue, yellow, red. When the silver confetti falls into his hair he takes on an ethereal quality and your breath hitches at the sight of him. Damn it - you refuse to let yourself fall under his spell. Not tonight. Not when you've come here for the sole purpose of letting everyone know that you're the one in control, that this is your game and he is no more than one of your pawns.
It takes less than half an hour for his eighteen-year-old skin to reach a boiling point. You kiss him hard. As you grind your hips against his, you know he’s primed. You start to walk off of the dance floor. You turn back and give him a raise of your eyebrow to let him know he can follow. He does so eagerly. He's right at your heels, holding on to your waistband as you make your way out of the crowd. When you feel his hot breath against the back of your neck, you have to use every ounce of restraint you can muster not to slam him against the wall and take him right there. You stop yourself, though, because tonight isn't about getting a quick fuck. Tonight is about getting payback.
You make your way through the familiar hallways looking for just the right spot to execute your plan. It's not the first time you've brought him to the backroom, but the other times you'd look for some out-of-the-way corner that would shield him from onlookers as you entered his sweet, tight hole. Tonight though, he won't get privacy. If he thinks he can get away with shaking his ass in front of every horny fag in Pittsburgh without having to pay a price, then the boy still has quite a lot to learn. Well, tonight, let the lesson begin.
When you stop midway down the main corridor, he takes this as his cue. He leans his hands and forehead against the wall and spreads his legs a
shoulder's width apart. He expects you to unzip his pants and pull them down just below his ass. You do just that. You're not ready to reveal that this will be no ordinary evening. You slick your fingers with lube and slide them up and down his crack. "Breathe. Let me in," you say, and as you feel him relax, you work one then two fingers deep into him. He tries to rock back against you, but you still him with your other hand and whisper in his ear, "Not yet, you'll have plenty of time for that later." He whimpers in frustration. Your ministrations are torturously slow.
As his moans become more pronounced, you feel the eyes start to turn toward to you. "That's right,” you think. Let them all see that Brian Kinney is causing this boy to make these delicious sounds. You let your free hand wander up the front of his shirt. You spend a moment caressing his belly before you make your way up to one and then his other nipple. You pinch him just a little too hard to be playful, and when he cries out, you suddenly pull your laboring fingers out of him and spin him around to face you. He nearly loses his balance but you steady him by pressing him to the full length of you. " Do you want me to fuck you?" you ask plainly. Your tone gives no indication of the lust that's building within you.
"Yes," he chokes out.
He's bold. He reaches for your belt buckle, but you place your hand over his and simply shake your head. You spin him around a second time, and
this time you move with him. Now your back is to the wall, and he is facing the crowd of men that’s started to circle around the two of you in an effort to get a peak.
“Lift your arms,” you whisper huskily into his ear. He strains his neck to look back at you. “Brian?” You’ve never undressed him in public before and he doesn’t understand. You coax him by saying, “I want my hands on your bare skin. Now, lift your arms.” He knows you’re not asking so he does as he’s told.
You pull his shirt over his head and discard it on the floor. “Drop your pants.” He’s leaning his head back, and your cheeks are pressed together. You can feel the heat of embarrassment and arousal in his face. “But…” he begins but you stop him by saying, “You didn’t mind everyone looking at you last night. Now come on, show them what they really want to see.” He doesn’t move so you try a harsher tactic, “You had no problem swinging on that pole like a five dollar whore. What’s making you shy now?” Your tone has just a hint of cruelty in it, but you know it’ll only make him hotter. He relaxes his thighs, and his pants fall to floor. He steps out of them and kicks them aside, and now he’s leaning back against you completely naked, completely vulnerable.
The sucking and fucking throughout the room has come to a dead stop, and now all eyes are on him. They’re waiting for their king to give them
another show. You’re not about to let him disappoint his subjects. You lean back against the wall and bend your knees just enough to give him a lap to sit on. He straddles your legs as he leans back on to you. His bare ass rubs against your bulging crotch. You pull a condom from your pocket and bring it to your mouth to release it from the wrapper. You know the sound of the paper tearing drives him
nuts, so you look around his shoulder to see his cock begin to leak onto the floor.
“They all want you,” you tell him. Your words make him whimper. “Half this room wants to drop to their knees right now and suck you,” you continue as you lift up him slightly to release your dick from your tightening jeans. You sheath it, then rest your shaft lightly within his crack and say, “The other half wants me to turn you around so they can ram your ass till you pass out.” His chest is heaving, and his fingers dig into the arm you’re wrapping around his waist. “You can have anyone you want. Just say the word, and they’re yours.” He looks around the room. You shift behind him so you can see his profile. He licks his lips as he surveys the chests and thighs and faces and cocks. You press you lips to his ear and whisper, “Or…you can have this.” And you reach underneath him and press the tip of your dick against his hole. “It’s your choice. Any of them, or me.”
Before you realize what’s happening, he’s skewered himself on you. Christ, he’s hot and tight and you’re buried completely within him. You’ve never let him ride you before, and the intensity of the sensation takes you by surprise. You take hold of his hips and help him set his pace. He rocks forward onto the balls of his feet, then drops his weight back down onto you and you have to struggle to keep your footing. You bite his shoulder, then begin licking and sucking on the side of his neck. He’s panting, making no effort to muffle the sounds coming from his mouth.
“See what you’re doing to them.” Your voice is filled with throaty desire. “They’re fisting their cocks and fingering their asses, and everyone one of them wishes they could touch you.” He turns his head to the side in a clumsy effort to kiss you. He manages to lick your jaw, and you laugh wickedly at his effort. “That’s right, they all want you, but you want me.”
He makes an attempt at crying out your name, but his words are unintelligible. “You want me in your mouth, you want me in your ass, and you can
never get enough.” He quickens his pace, and you know he’s close. You search your mind for the words that will take him over the edge, and you
smile to yourself when you find them. “I’m the best you’ll ever have, and you know it.” He shoots out onto the floor and as his ass clenches around you, suddenly you’re coming too.
You give him just a second to catch his breath, then you lift him so you can stand upright. You quickly arrange yourself and zip up your jeans and start to walk out of the room. You don’t look back, but you know he’s scurrying to find his clothes. You wouldn’t really leave him back there alone, but you want to let him think you would.
They may all want him, but you’re the one he follows out the door.
The End.
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