Work Header

Entre la nuit et l'aurore

Work Text:

‘Someone’s been checking you out.’

‘You don’t say.’ Pike couldn’t bring himself to be flattered, not this deep into his third whisky and not in a place like O’Marra’s where he counted on the bar’s obscurity off San Francisco’s beaten track to avoid being noticed at all. He gave O’Marra a grateful nod as he accepted his fourth. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘You tell me,’ she shrugged. ‘One of yours, isn’t he?’

Pike followed the jerk of O’Marra’s chin towards the bar and released a weary sigh. Kirk. Damn it.

‘Not exactly,’ he muttered resentfully, but he was already measuring Kirk’s intoxication with a sharper, slower gaze that immediately spotted his sway on the bar stool, the hint of a split lip. ‘Has he been causing trouble?’

‘Dragged trouble in with him, more like.’ O’Marra shook her head, but Pike noted the hint of amusement as she shot another glance in Kirk’s direction. ‘He got rid of ‘em fast enough but he’s been simmering there since before you dragged your own sorry ass down my steps.’

Concern cut sharply through the pleasant blur of his whisky. He had been hidden at his usual table beneath the cellar’s lowest vault long enough to be well on his way to drunk; if Kirk had been perched at the bar all this time and then some, he was likely already wasted. ‘Leave it with me,’ he decided grimly, rising to his thankfully steady feet.

‘Finally noticed me, then,’ Kirk muttered as Pike took the neighbouring barstool, bleary blue eyes sliding visibly down and up again before turning back to his drink with a miserable twist of a grin. Pike rolled his eyes at the reproachful venom slurring his voice, took a sip of his whisky before daring to speak.

‘You make it hard not to notice.’ He allowed himself a closer look at his wayward recruit, poorly dressed for the cool weather in dark clinging trousers and a thin white t-shirt. Where’s your jacket, he wanted to ask but Pike shoved the question firmly away, could already picture Kirk’s scathing reply. ‘Didn’t think this was your kind of place,’ he tried instead.

‘S’not.’ Kirk shrugged, reached for the drink he clearly didn’t need. ‘But it’s your kinda place, isn’t it?’

Pike furrowed his brow, brain frustratingly slow to follow Kirk’s meaning. ‘Have you been following me here?’ he asked finally, stunned as Kirk cocked an unsteady finger at him and made a weird phaser-like noise in affirmation. ‘Why?’

‘You invaded my favourite dive,’ he said, low and harsh. ‘Jus’ think of it as returning the favour.’

‘I saved you from getting your foolish skull kicked in,’ Pike snapped, glaring as Kirk let loose an ugly giggle.

Saved me…? What… you really think you were doing me some sort of favour?’

‘Damn right.’ If there was any doubt lingering on his tongue, another mouthful of whisky soon drowned it out. ‘You were wasting your life out there and you know it,’ he added before he could stop himself. They had played out far too many variations on this same conversation in the eight months since that night in Riverside and Pike was in no mood for a repeat. Not on his night off, damn it.

‘Fuck you,’ Kirk snapped, and Pike raised a marginally impressed eyebrow. That was new. ‘You don’t know shit about what I was like… maybe I was happy where I was…’

‘Bullshit,’ he muttered under his breath. Pike stared at his glass, wondered how it had emptied so fast.

‘But no… because there you go swaggering in like you own the whole fucking town and decide that’s not good enough for George Kirk’s son… nothing ever is good enough for you…’

Kirk stared unblinkingly at the bar, eyes gleaming worryingly enough to soften the raw edges of Pike’s impatience. ‘Come on, son,’ he sighed, laying a reassuring hand on his arm and watching closely as he felt a shiver beneath his fingers, saw the shudder of his eyelashes. ‘I never said…’

Don’t.’ Kirk jerked away from his touch so violently that he nearly toppled off his barstool. ‘I’m not a kid,’ he scowled with a sulk that did nothing to reinforce his point. ‘Don’t need your fucking pity.’

‘Fine.’ Whatever Kirk was, he was becoming more than he could handle with any sobriety. ‘I’ll have another,’ he called out, waving his empty glass unseeingly at the bar.

‘Yeah, same here,’ Kirk chimed in. ‘Daddy’s buying,’ he added with a sneer in Pike’s direction, and it was all he could do to not grab the kid by the scruff of the neck and rub his nose in the spilt booze on the bar. He seized Kirk by the arm instead, all tender concern forgotten as he yanked him forcefully to his feet. Kirk stumbled, falling heavily into Pike’s body with a distracting cacophony of clinging hands, an unmistakable hardness pressed against his thigh. Pike clamped his eyes shut, took a steadying breath and nearly groaned at the whisper of sweat, blood and something more bestial wafting from Jim’s body.

Pike’s fresh whisky slammed onto the bar, along with a raised eyebrow from O’Marra silently asking after Kirk’s slurred order. ‘Not for him,’ he clarified sharply. ‘And I’m going to need your back room.’

O’Marra agreed with a bark of a laugh and an expansive wave of her hand, but Pike was already dragging his charge down an unlit corridor to an even darker room with a heavy door that muffled all sound in either direction. He flung Kirk ahead of him before pulling the door shut, grimly satisfied as Kirk tripped into the crates that crammed the tiny storage room.

‘What the hell…’ Kirk floundered drunkenly against the crates, putting his ass on obscene display under the blue emergency lights. Seething with heat, Pike closed in and pinned him down before he could recover, fingers collaring his neck as he leaned down low.

‘If you’re going to act like a childish little bitch,’ he growled, giving Kirk a hard shake, ‘I’m going to treat you like one.’ And Pike smacked him, hard and open-handed over that tempting ass. A shocked yelp chased the loud crack of his hand and Pike spanked him harder to shut him up, to feed the roar of blood pounding in his ears as the tension bled from the body held captive beneath his hand. The muted flood of his surrender sped Pike’s hand, kept him going until the white-hot rush of his anger was broken by a loud, wrenching sob.

The sound of it flung Pike back against the nearest wall, heart hammering, hand stinging and slack at his side. He stared, horror-struck, at the debauched picture Kirk made, flung over a pile of dirty crates, shoulders heaving in that tight shirt. His panting breaths rattled the claustrophobic air around them, left Pike dry-mouthed and speechless until the rasp of Kirk’s voice split the uneasy silence.

‘Don’t stop.’

‘What?’ He crept reluctantly closer, head tilting to take in the gaping greed of Kirk’s full lips, the lust-glazed gleam of his heavily lidded eyes.

‘Keep going…’ That gorgeous ass canted deliciously upward, begging for Pike’s hand. His fingers twitched, hesitated, drew away.

‘Stand up,’ he whispered finally. The faint blue light revealed a crumpling defeat in Kirk’s face, heartbreaking enough that he stayed close as the other man pushed upright and turned stoically to face him. His eyelashes cast long shadows on his flushed cheeks; Pike indulgently traced the curve of his cheekbone, felt a damp trace on his warm skin.

‘Look at me, son,’ he commanded gently. Kirk gasped shakily at the glancing touch of his thumb over those lovely lips, blue eyes flashing obediently upward. ‘Look me in the eye, and tell me again if you really want this.’

‘I want this.’ Swift, breathless, stripping even Pike of his hesitation. ‘Please…’

‘And if I take more?’ How reckless to ask for even more than this wrong, impossible thing but his audacity was nothing compared to the narrowing of Kirk’s incandescent eyes, the tease of his tongue over his thumb.

‘I hope you do.’

That mouth demanded a kiss, one that Pike rashly stole in a messy clash of tongues and teeth – too violent for the tenderness Kirk clearly needed, but the throaty moans he got in return proved what the young man actually craved beyond his own good.

‘Give me your belt,’ he hushed, biting sharply at his split lower lip before withdrawing a step. His eyes flicked downward to watch as Kirk whisked the length of leather from his hips in a single brisk motion.

‘Good boy,’ he murmured, offering his hand for Kirk to pass the belt into his keeping. ‘Now, back where you belong.’

Kirk moved smoothly into position, pausing only to loosen those tight trousers and nudge them down his thighs. Pike stared, bit back a groan as the cold light caught the pale flesh of his buttocks. He let himself touch first, a sweep of fingertips over smooth skin that set Kirk shivering beneath him as he took a readying step back.

The belt cracked far louder than his hand and yielded sharper, more delicious cries from his victim, who was making an obscene spectacle of himself writhing against the crates. Pike slid a firm hand up his spine, steadying him the way he would a favourite horse and allowing the hem of Kirk’s shirt to catch in his fingers on the way. Beneath the thin cloth, his bare back flexed beautifully with pain and restlessness, luring Pike to taste the sweat of his skin from the small of his back to between tensed shoulder blades. Kirk gasped as the slow drag of his tongue, squirmed with an impatient little noise.

‘Stop that.’ He caught a fistful of Kirk’s tousled hair, tugged hard as he snapped the belt again across his ass. ‘You’ll take whatever I give you,’ he warned sternly, ‘whether you like it or not.’

Kirk moaned as Pike nestled a kiss in the dip of his spine before hitting him again. He kept hold of Kirk’s hair as he scattered self-indulgent pleasures among the pain, caressing his body like the rare prize it was between punishing blows of the belt. The anger that had taken them here was already fading, burned away by an arousal that intensified as Kirk whimpered and slackened beneath his hand. He was quieter now, his erratic bucking tamed to a lovely quiver that yielded as Pike reached for his wrists, pulled his hands together to the small of his back.

‘Good boy,’ he purred as he wound the belt around Kirk’s wrists, binding them tight together. That final tug of the leather in his hands struck a harsher, greedier nerve deep in Pike’s body; he exhaled shakily, trailed his fingertips over the welts he had raised on Kirk’s ass, down to his surprisingly smooth thighs. Kirk keened softly at his touch, legs straining wider apart in the binding of his trousers and Pike was tight and hard and wanting up against him before he could stop himself, head falling back on a low groan as he thrust his still-clothed erection up against Kirk’s abused ass, fingers gouging bruises into his hips. He ached to let himself go, to fuck away every last shred of himself in the heat of Kirk’s captive body but no, this had already gone too far… already too late…

He reeled back as though burned, though his hands insisted on dragging Kirk with him. ‘On your knees,’ he decided in a distracted growl as he fumbled at his flies and drew out his cock, throbbing heavily in his hand as Kirk dropped to the dirty floor. He shuffled awkwardly to his knees without the use of his bound hands, took advantage of the close space to shove his face into Pike’s groin, moaning and lapping hungrily at his fingers until Pike grabbed his hair instead and penetrated the inviting heat of Kirk’s mouth.

The slick heat of him was immediately overwhelming, lashing him apart with a wicked tongue that weakened Pike’s knees and sent him sagging into the crates. He clutched Kirk’s hair tighter, moaning as he thrust past those plush lips and felt the sinuous tip of Kirk’s tongue trace the underside of his cock. Distantly, beyond the blinding blur of his own pleasure, he felt Kirk’s body shoving in close to his own, felt the heat of an erection rubbing feverishly at his clothed leg.

‘Look at you,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘Dirty, horny bitch…’ Far from discouraging him, Pike nudged his leg harder between Kirk’s thighs, staring down with wide eyes at the lewd display Kirk was making of himself – half-naked, hands bound, riding his leg like an animal, mouth stretched around his cock…

His orgasm slammed hard through him with a roaring intensity that nearly doubled him over, fingers tugging so sharply at Kirk’s hair that he felt his pained whimper vibrate through his softening cock. Pike slumped heavily into the crates as he slipped from Kirk’s mouth and dared to open his eyes again. Even in the faint blue light, his full lips looked swollen and flushed with use, and all the more delectable for it.

Pike dropped to the floor with a profound lack of grace but it served to pin his prey beneath him for a slow, decadent kiss that quivered with desperation. ‘Such a good boy,’ he murmured, barely a whisper between their slicked lips. He slipped his hand down between them, fondling the stiff, heated cock straining against Kirk’s bared belly. ‘Think you deserve a reward…’

‘Please…’ His cock bumped wetly at Pike’s teasing fingertips as Kirk thrust futilely towards a more deliberate touch. ‘I’ll be good,’ he gasped, damp eyelashes fluttering shut. ‘Anything you want, please…’

‘I know, son…’ It didn’t take much; hushed praises and a few rough strokes and Kirk was sobbing out his own release, writhing in the narrow space between Pike’s thighs. His head twisted aside with one last, heart-wrenching whimper, and Pike finally surrendered his flagging erection to gather his shaking body into his arms.

‘Easy… there you are…’ Mindless comfort murmured off his lips as he cradled Kirk to him as best he could in this tiny, filthy room. With both alcohol and lust drained from his blood, guilt was creeping into his every frayed edge. He strained to reach beneath Kirk’s shaking body for his bound hands, frowned as he jerked away with a faint noise of protest. ‘James…’

A slow smile broke across Kirk’s ruined lips, though his eyes remained shut. ‘Not yet,’ he breathed lazily. A sodden slur was still thick on his tongue, doing nothing to ease Pike’s guilt as he threaded his fingers through tousled hair gone damp with sweat, drowning anew in the heat and the scent of him.

‘Not yet,’ he agreed. It was already too late.