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A Stranger's Rule

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Marcus waits at the bar to be served as the barman ID's the young guy ahead. Eyeing the spread pages of the guy's passport the barman frowns and asks, "Ess-kah? What sort of a name's that?"

The guy, Esca, replies, "Good Celtic name's what it is."

His accent is very Northern, nearly Geordie - probably from one of the places within fifty miles of the Tyne. It sounds very out of place in this sleepy London suburb and Marcus's ears tune in, interested, he likes accents, collects them and he's never fucked an almost Geordie before.

He flicks a look at his ass, just a flashing glance, quick enough that he could've just been him looking at the floor.

He had been told by his nervous buddies that this was not the sort of place, or the part of town where you did such things openly. As if he had needed to be told by anyone else to keep things covert where sex was concerned. He had been his high school's football star and in the Marines until he was invalided out after his car accident. He well knew the hostility most men pretended to feel when they caught the admiring glance of another man. Keeping things on the downlow was second nature to him by now.

All the same Marcus had never had problems getting laid in either of his past lives.

With his masculine manner, his physique and his handsome face it was not arrogance for him to say that most guys, gay, 'straight' or otherwise were a possibility for him regardless of how the 'straight' ones might pretend to disapprove of him and his desires. 

So Marcus looks at Esca's butt just as he would the butt of any man he thinks he might want, looks as he would if this were in the gayest bar in town.

Respectful and discreet.

Damnit if Esca's ass isn't perfect, high, firm and nicely shaped, plump cheeks a handful each. The rest looks pretty pleasing too. Firstly he is short - Marcus likes guys to be at least a head smaller than he is, likes them to have to look up to him, to get on tiptoes to kiss him. Then Esca seems brave or insane, only wearing a short sleeved, light mauvey blue polo shirt above his denims despite it being absolutely freezing inside as it is outside where it is nearly snowing.

Then there is the fact that he obviously looks young enough to be ID'd, but is then old enough for the barman to express in disbelief

"Wouldn't have said you were born in 87 mate, don't look old enough."

Marcus likes them young looking, soft but rough in nature. The sorts who took people by surprise.

Fragile faced, hard edged, little brawlers, one of his more erudite aquaintances had once commented.

They are a rare breed and Marcus often has to settle for less but he has high hopes for Esca that make him ache to see his face, which when he turns is thankfully every bit as nice as he had hoped, manly in angle but small and soft in shape.

They catch eyes and hold briefly and there is the tiniest quirk of a smile in the other's slate blue eyes.

As Marcus places his order, Esca lingers by the bar to one side. His conversation with the barman is over, he has his drink and his table is accross the way, but there he stays.

He knows something's up.

As the barman pours his pint Marcus looks at Esca again who stares back rather sternly. It's unsettling how concentrated and intense those eyes are in his young, clear face.

Unsettling and exciting.

Marcus looks away quick, scans his friend's table just wanting to test it casually, intending to look back at Esca in a second to see if he is still looking.

This look to his friend's Marcus gives just in time to see a dark teen, also in a pastel polo shirt, lurching and loose limbed, put his hand on the shoulder of Toby, one of the guys Marcus came with.

"You fucking touch Stef again mate and I'll fucking kill you!" the boy slurs.

Toby's eyes are wide in shock, but not so wide that he doesn't know what the boy is talking about. He freezes, unable to speak one word of outrage or defense and the dark guy doesn't hesitate before slugging him in the face.

At the hit Toby is suddenly up, sprung, punching him back twice as hard, knuckles making firm contact with his cheek in a downward motion. The attacker reels a little, then mumbles, and Toby hits him again just as hard, catching his nose this time.

In slow motion Marcus sees blood arc out of there like a fountain.


Perfect. The angle is spot on. But bad for the hit kid who stumbles head in his hands. Then again Marcus thinks, that's what happens when you're a drunk teenage boy and you pick on someone who is sober and pumped full of adrenaline. 

The drunk kid is clearly one of Esca's boys from their stupid matching polo shirts. He tries to make it towards them at once, unable to get close to the felled boy at all because of the carnage of fallen chairs, and their outraged occupants crowding him.

Toby stands shaking, fist bloodied, unaware what he's just done or why he did it.

Marcus doesn't even try to get close, just watches from a distance willing it to calm down.


The fight has run its course and it's decided that as the attacker came off worse than his intended victim that all was rather even and well. Not long later Toby leaves, upset, and the puncher sits in the booth cradling his nose which has stopped bleeding, as a bruise forms red on the pale skin of his cheek.

Marcus stays drinking with the few friends left, hoping to catch a sight of Esca, still thinking on his chances.


Even though the victim has gone the barman calls the police. A tiny policewoman in a bulky fluorescent jacket makes her way alone into the pub and up to the bar. The barman points her to Marcus' table. By the time she gets there Marcus realises that none of his friends are going to tell her what happened, all honouring the decision that the issue is all done and dusted. He tries to convince them that the guy who threw the first punch should be punished above Toby's punches. It's the principle of the thing as far as he's concerned - he doesn't think people should be allowed to go around smacking other people in the face without the law getting involved. None of the others are convinced.

As Marcus is the only person willing to engage with her the policewoman explains exclusively to him.

"The barman says he didn't see anything, but he says your friend was hit. Your friends are telling me they can't be confident exactly which of the boys it was, so unless you can tell me there is very little we can do."

Marcus doesn't hesitate before identifying the bruised boy across from them, who in all truth couldn't actually have been more conspicuous unless he was wearing a neon sign.

The policewoman goes to the boy, talks to him and calls for backup. He is taken down to the police station. Not for the fight, the policewoman explains that the victim would have to file a complaint for that to be pursued beyond a caution, but for the fact that the boy had prior probation and curfew orders out against him that he's now violated.


Esca is out smoking when the kid is taken away.

When he comes back, his friend's explain it to him and he is not happy and Marcus can see they've told him it's his fault by the hatred burning in his face toward him.


The toliet tiles are sky blue. When Esca enters he is bluer in the eye and shirt somehow because of the sympathetic surfaces. Marcus wants, can't help himself, he stares.

"Don't you fucking look at me cunt!" Esca says. His lips are a line, his jaw is held tight, emphasizing the blunt, mannish angle to his nose in what was, until then, looking like it might have been a deceptively pretty face.

Marcus burns with want.

"Look man, I don't have any problem with you but your boy's a moron."

"No I know. He's a fucking idiot, we decided that, but he's already been lamped in the face for it by your psycho mate, then you get him dragged off by the coppers too? Is that fair?"

Marcus sniggers savagely, unwilling to take Esca's line of thinking on the issue as anything but a joke.

"Look he came and hit first man, he got what he deserved!"

"Yeah but did he hit anywhere near as hard? Did he hit him again? Your fucking mate mullered him!"

"Fuck you dude!"

The gap after this is long enough that Marcus thinks it over until Esca walks past him to leave and spits.

"Fucking dick!"

It's so insouciant, so fucking cheeky and Marcus sees red, grabbing the little shit by the short column of buttons on the chest of his T-shirt.

"Oooo, big man!" Esca says with a sly, nasty smirk, effortlessly mocking Marcus, as though he sees through his largeness of presence, to the weakness of his helpless desire.

It flicks a switch, suddenly Marcus' whole insides are volcanic lava spewing into his hands. He raises the free one into a fist and aims it at his face.

"Go on then, fucking smack me," Esca whispers, mocking, "See you go down too shall we?"

Marcus gets a firm grip on Esca and pushes him up against the wall. He struggles but his resistance is too half hearted and slow. The possibility that Esca is lingering in his hold just as he seemed to linger near the bar is fucking annoying to Marcus because it is so acutely arousing too. He leans his head in closer, in irritation and lust combined. Esca smells of menthol cigarette smoke, his breath probably tastes of it and Marcus wants to kiss him so bad, wants to smash his face in for knowing that he can't.

Feeling foolishly close to serious violence he pushes him away and withdraws.

"Fucking useless cunt." Esca says.

"That was a fucking warning dude! What you as much a fool as your boy out there?"

Esca laughs.

"Seriously do you want me to hit you? cos look at me man, I'll fucking kill you!"

Marcus isn't expecting it at all when Esca kicks him hard in the shin. He hits full wack, more Toby, than his friend and the pain is tremendous, blasting from the point of impact.

"Yeah you fucking arrogant cunt." Esca spits at Marcus in contempt as he reels.

"You fucking kicked me man?" Marcus gasps, "What kind of a pussy fucking kicks people!?"

The pain is splintering when Esca kicks his shin in the same spot as before then again and again as if he is kicking it in, his knee being the pivotal point of surrender.

Marcus has memories of his knee being busted by the accident, of not being able to walk, of struggling to get to the point of not limping with every step. Ever since his knees and legs have been the most cherished, precious areas of his body, he flips to have them tampered with.

Marcus punchs Esca in the face, not caring for where he strikes. Smacking him, finally making some sort of contact, is so satisfying, like the purest hit of oxygen to a suffocating man and when Marcus cannot just hit him again, he feels like car exhaust is backing up in his lungs and he is choking and he has to do something so pushes Esca back against the wall by his throat.

He pushes his head back against the wall with the other hand, sees his blue eyes smeared by movement and keeps hard on it, pushing until Esca's skull crunches against the painted brickwork and Esca whines in pain. Marcus feels the pressure of his hand on his head is not enough, like he wants to push through the bone.

Futile Esca's squeaking protests die away, fight momentarily gone and Marcus feels exhiliration. Then Esca springs to life, his nails clawing Marcus everywhere they can find him, forearms, shoulders, even at his hands, wrists. Esca's fingers are so skilled at harming that the sting is high and bracing even when he scratches areas of Marcus' body covered by clothes.

Something hot and satisfying floods up through Marcus' system, something euphoric that compels him to squeeze Esca's neck.

Then Esca's trying to get his elbow between their bodies, wildly jabbing him in the chest, punching him. Marcus bears it, restraining him firmly around the neck, not letting him fight free.

Esca's gasping for breath now, desperate, panicking, "Fucking bastard!" It's a sigh, huffed out of his chest as he scrapes Marcus' hands sharper, harder with his fingernails.

Marcus is sure he's bleeding and he doesn't care.

The split second Esca stills again to regroup Marcus grabs him by the hair, means to turn his eyes to him, to utter something definitive, but the sight of Esca's eyes, shuttered by weakness, is gorgeous. Marcus is made silent by admiration, as well as transfixed by a deep, frustrating pang of deja vu.

Esca shudders with exertion and emotion and Marcus understands this. It sounds like sex. It sends Marcus' breath faster, his want for him higher, throbbing in his balls, his prick rising in his shorts.

Its less than a second of this panting in duet, Marcus' head full of thoughts of fucking this kid in his tight ass up against this wall, his hand full of his soft hair, yanking on it so hard, so final, before Marcus works out jubilant where he's seen that look Esca has on his face before. Not that he has to wonder really, because at almost the same moment he can feel Esca isn't fighting anymore, then can feel his cock, very hard through his jeans.

Marcus wants to squeeze it vicious, till he hurts him, but Esca looks almost like he might cry from getting a hard on in the circumstance and the humiliation is really satisfying enough.

Marcus hisses at him amused, as if entirely surprised by him, certainly not like he is sharing the response.

"You jizzin' in your pants over this dude?"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you man. You'd let me!" Marcus smirk is spiteful, in control.

"You'd fucking want to!"

"I'd fucking want to?" Marcus rubs a hand over the up curve of cock in Esca's jeans and says, "do me a favour huh, don't lie to yourself."

Esca goes ape again, struggling to get free, but Marcus is ontop and when Esca scratches him this time he scratches back, leaving a nasty red welt on his arm that breaks through to blood.

Esca bares his teeth angrily with the pain. Marcus silences him by focusing on him, holding to him with his hip he sets about feeling his cock, two handed, one palm tracing the shaft up to the end, seating there and rubbing hard, as the other lightly squeezes and pinches at his balls through his pants.

Esca's jaw goes slack, he shudders and his breath pants, a little wanton. It drives Marcus crazy. He can't believe this kid exists, he's a fantasy. Up against a wall, in a bathroom, straining to get fucked by a man who just smacked him in the face.

Fragile faced brawler.

Marcus has interest in men who can take some roughness. He chases Esca's lips, but tokenly evasive he keeps his head well back.

Frustrated Marcus asks.

"You want it bitch?"

Esca curls his lip in disgust like he might growl in disagreement, eyes seizing stern and fierce.

They stub harsh breaths out against one another.

Marcus unzips Esca's fly to counter his challenging gaze. When he yanks the jeans roughly off his hips, burning him Esca's eyes flicker. Then Marcus puts his hand down the front of Esca's underwear until he's touching flesh and suddenly the poor boy can't hold anymore, he closes his eyes tight, lets off a sobbing whine.

Erratically as Marcus strokes fingertips against his warm, soft, stiffness and continues to receive helpless sound, he kisses Esca who lets him work between his lips slow before he snaps and bites him, sure and hard, holding his lip between pincering teeth for an agonising second.

Marcus pulls away and swoops down, taking a chunk of Esca's neck flesh between his teeth. He pulls on that hard enough with his jaw to hurt a little but not wound.

"Fucking bite me again I bite you."

That threat makes Esca pant hard, he likes that. He wrenches his hand in his hair and warns"Or I could just suck all over your neck, let you explain to your boys how you went into the men's room clean and came out covered in hickeys. That'd be awkward right."

Esca looks up at him dark with disdain as if he doesn't know what the fuck he means.

Marcus will fucking teach him.

He shoves his hand more forcefully than he needs to down into the back of his underwear, scrapes his hand onto his ass and levers it off the wall until he has his hand there.

"Ah, ah," Esca moans, stressed by what he does as he moves to enable it.

Marcus has fingers down in his underwear, gets one dry down his crack, up his arse to the knuckle, crooks it.

Esca gyrates in pleasure, his moaning slides to the hot pants of someone being desperately tampered with.

"Stall?" Marcus suggests.


Thrown against the stall wall Esca reaches on tiptoes and begs, "Kiss me."

"Fucking kiss you you think I'm stupid?"

Esca pinches the shape of his plump cock through his jeans, then with a bright smile says.

"A little."

Marcus stills Esca's hand puts his own on Esca's side then works it back around to Esca's yanked down trousers. He sinks it down the back of his underwear again shoving two fingers up inside him now, wiggling them until they're deep, loving how Esca grunts and gasps and squeezes his
eyes shut at the gesture.

Esca turns round and drops his pants. Arms resting on the wall, head resting on his arms so his back arches his cheeks out barely.

His ass is gorgeous.

To think that he wanders the streets everyday with such high, plump, loveliness in his shorts, Marcus just can't handle it. He shoves his finger immediately invading down his crack between his asshole and balls and rubs. Esca jerks away, but as he does he shivers, so Marcus, fairly sure he has the right spot, just presses in harder as he rubs.

"Fuckn' don't!" Esca insists, quaking again at the sensation, jabbing an elbow back at Marcus.

"Come on man let me give you what you need."

"Just fuckn get on with it then."

Marcus is in outrage at that. It's about time he showed the little shit.

He gets down on his knees behind him, then licks a solid stripe up his crack.

"Eurgh what ya doing?"

Esca says. He jerks away but between the flimsy stall wall he rests against and Marcus' knelt form, he can't get far and Marcus chases, tongue still drawn and slides it down, spreading that crack again easy.

"Eurgh," Esca repeats as his asshole is licked once more, but this time the sound is lower, longer, the outrage of its content melting into a pleasured tone.

Marcus waggles his tongue tracing his ring, then as Esca adjusts to this he thrusts into it forcefully, licks him out deep and focused from the start.

Esca growls and arches, driving back, spreading himself against the angle of Marcus' nose, now, agressively riding Marcus' tongue as he fucks him with it.


Marcus can hear his eyes tight pleasure in the thickness of the noise.

Esca tastes good, so clean and fresh and as he rocks backwards and forwards he closes that delicious scent and taste around his nose and mouth. His mouth waters making everything sloppy and hot.

Marcus can hear Esca getting off good. It hurts to listen to him, makes him sad he isn't in control of himself because he would have loved to stay down on his knees until Esca's end but he's so hard he can't see straight and he needs to do something about that.

Esca whimpers high and strong as Marcus licks out of his wet hole, then shudders as he rises to standing behind him. Marcus slides the tip of his cock almost into position, rubbing it up and down and around, teasing his sensitive little rim.

Esca gasps, wriggles in pleasure instinctively, then spasms away, hands behind him pushing Marcus off him.


Marcus laughs in surprise.

Esca is fury itself as he asks him.

"Have You got a condom?"

Marcus has one, in his pocket, takes it out for Esca to see and says to him.

"I wasn't seriously gonna enter you bare man, I was just, teasing."

"Too tight to fucking tease." Esca seems to be flirtatious with the comment, but the traces are gone quickly as he then demands, eyes hard, "Gimme the johnny, I'll put it on ya."

"I'm good, you know, I've done it before."

"Give me it!"

Esca looks like he would stab him if he had a weapon and Marcus laughs at his continued level of hostility.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Why cos I fancy you? No I don't fuckn trust you cunt, not as far as I can throw ya."

Esca is non negotiable, so Marcus laughs at him and gives him the condom, shuddering as he snaps it cold over his burning.

Esca's eyes flicker with something like desire as he strokes it down his hard flesh and Marcus loves it, attuned to all the tiny gestures of need that he betrays.

"Are you gonna be like this all the way? Cos if so I'd rather not look at your face." Marcus smiles, making it plain that it's Esca's attitude that he objects to.

Esca smiles grudgingly back then mumbles harassed.

"Don't wanna fucking look at your face either, it's ugly now, hate to think what it'll look like when you come."

Marcus likes this and he moves until they are kissing again, mouthing one another apart slow as Marcus' hands disappear up Esca's T-shirt, lightly scratching his lean hard back then down over the cheeks of his arse.

Esca turns around again, arm to the wall, forehead on arm then bends. With his other arm he lifts his T-shirt, holding it off half way up his back.

He looks over his shoulder at Marcus slack jawed, eyes blown with his pleasure and breathes seductively.

"There, that's a nicer view yeah? More to the point."

Marcus barely adjusts to his visceral reaction at the sight of Esca's tender taint, of his asshole spread entirely open for his delectation, before Esca removes the arm cushioning his forehead and the one on his T-shirt, putting both his hands in front of him, straightening a little.

Taking a small tube of lube out of his pocket Esca coats his hands and fingers in the stuff and leans back in again, bending, arching ass more extremely this time. Forehead against the partition, hand again bunching his T-shirt up his taut back, he traces his asshole with a shiny finger of the free hand. He presses in, twisting, then squeezes another up, curving then rubbing in and out and in and out.

All the while he grinds his forehead in tighter to the wall, shuddering out grunts, clearly getting off on what he's doing to himself.

The envy Marcus' cock has of those fingers is large.

Just as Marcus has resigned himself to the frustration of watching Esca finger fuck himself as he stands seperate burning and squirming with want, Esca abruptly hands him back the lube, the bottle slippery, and says, through gritted teeth. "Sort yourself out and gimme one then."

Marcus over obliges. Once slicked he thrusts in him tight and necessarily slow.

Esca groans, "Ah." just once.

Marcus fucks with great swing and force the moment he can, but no matter how hard he goes Esca looks over his shoulder and smiles at him.

"Asshole!" Marcus mutters at him, the burn in his balls sparking acutely pleasurable as he hisses the s of the insult.

"Bastard!" Esca spits, taking his thrusts with the same smile on his face as before. It makes Marcus smile and he scratches hard down his ribs in retaliation, trying to make him cry out in pain.

Esca just moans.

"Uh slap my ribs."

As he pounds him rough Marcus hits him a few times there firmly, the sunken areas between his bones making a low hollow pop of the slaps.

All the tension of not quite coming rushes out of Marcus when he slaps him and he wants to keep on hitting him but he stops himself, trying to process the frustration with a spiky sigh of.



Marcus is impossibly thrilled when Esca pushes hard against his cock and asks. "Uh slap me again."


"Ah anywhere."

Marcus slaps his thigh, then his side, then either side of thrusts he gets his ribs again until Esca hisses in pain, at which point Marcus has mind enough to give a few nasty jabs to his pinkening flesh, then light scratches until Esca finally pants, high, pained, weak.

"Argh that's enough!"

Marcus really wants him and jerks forwards and stays there tight up inside him, arm around his waist taking him now with hard pulses of his hips rather than thrusts.

So hard up inside Esca Marcus doesn't want it to end. The friction of the walls of his ass against his shaft are the most extreme joy. It seems like it won't get any better but then everytime he hits the right spot inside Esca his body tenses involuntarily tight all over, making the squeeze more acute.

Then Marcus knows better with each thrust exactly where to press his cock into Esca to make him whine and beg and clamp and the control he has heightens the pleasure.

Marcus gasps, breathing so heavy, unable to handle it.

"Yeah," he moans mindlessly.

"Umm, oh, oh" Esca replies, his voice is tight, between hisses, squeezed from seizure and his ass locks on Marcus' prick sending a violent wave of pleasure to his balls.

Esca gasps.

"Fuck, fuck."

"You come?" Marcus asks redundant, able to feel it in his relaxation all around him.

"Yeah, spunked up the wall. Wasn't even touching myself. First time that's ever happened."

Esca's voice is breathy with laughter as if he's surprised himself. He looks round at Marcus who still pumps into him slowly, quite unable to stop entirely.

Esca's eyes are wet and the smirk on his thin lips is wide. Esca's voice comes off low, like a siren's call, and his eyes flash back at Marcus from time to time as he rotates his ass slowly around his dick saying.

"Yeah Come on, come on, knock off up inside me, yeah."

Incited by his words Marcus holds the back of Esca's neck, brutally presses him into the partition and starts to fuck into him impossibly quick then,

"Yeah that's it."

"Shit!" Marcus says as his cock pulses spray against the latex.

Recovering Marcus is so lost in the reverie of satiation that he slumps himself in, over Esca's back, mouthing at his neck and clothed shoulders in almost kisses.

Esca straightens up at once, letting Marcus know this is not acceptable, so Marcus pulls back, sliding out of him, pulling off the condom.

Esca groans deep at his withdrawal but is immediately on his underwear and trousers pulling them both back up.

"You ok?" Marcus asks,

"Might have to give footie a miss tomorrow." Esca says.

Marcus almost feels the glimmer of concern, a first, but it is gone when he sees his face.

"Just joking, I'm sound as a pound." The phrase sounds odd in his accent.

"Man am I glad I fucked your boy now ..." Marcus says.

"Oh yeah that reminds me. Gonna have to go down the cop shop in a moment cos of you, see how he's doing."

Marcus can't hear his words and leans to lick him. Esca places a stopping hand on his chest and warns venomous.

"Don't fuckn kiss me cunt. He's already on probation you know, he gets banged up what're his wife and kiddy gonna do?"

"He should be in fucking prison man for everyone's sake!"

"Oh fuck off!"

Marcus smiles at him, they smile at one another but it's minimal and tense until Marcus has pulled up his own pants to cover him.

"Anyway, best crack on, so to speak," Esca says, then as he does he hands him a cheaply made business card with a mobile number and a clip art of a pink bear on it.

By the time Marcus really takes in it's actuality and not the prospect of fucking again that Esca seems to be extending enough to smirk at it, Esca's already at the door out of the bathroom.

"A teddy?" Marcus says, delirious with exhaustion and finding that the funniest thing he's ever seen.

"Why what's the matter, don't you think I'm cuddly?"

Marcus laughs, unable to speak to convey how uncuddly he thinks Esca is.

"Ah fuck you!"

"Maybe next time, if you can reach." Marcus says.

With the feintest hint of a smirk on his lips Esca sticks his middle finger up at him as he turns on his heels and leaves the room.