Jake had never been the type to fear anything for too long. It was either that way or his way. It was how he had been taught to think from an early age. His brother was in charge now, and that meant more responsibilities for the 21-year-old who was supposed to find a way in life, outside the lulling security of his family. They were not just punks. They were The Outsiders. A name many feared. A name Jake and his brother took pride in. But Jake knew he could not stay, no matter how much he wanted to. The last thing he needed was to let anyone know about his ... peculiarity.
He snorted, mostly in self-deprecation. He was a strange one alright. He had never been like the others. This was a little something he only knew. When his brother and the others talked about some girl's boobs and ass, he could only think of strong arms pinning him down, sinewy legs forcing his own wide open and ... He shook his head. Now it wasn't a good time to play with the fantasies in his mind. He feared what the others would think. Hell, he could picture them yelling at him, "Fag!" and most probably many other names that he did not want to conjure in his mind at the moment. And the yelling would not be the worst thing. Probably he was going to get a real beating on top of everything else.
So, since it could not be his way, it had to be that way, which meant he had to go away and find something to do on his own, without his brother's protection.
He had to think of a reason, though. He could not flee, just like that. His brother would not understand. He was bound to say something, at least.
Kicking a rock with his foot, he watched it roll on the humid sidewalk, glowing faintly in the dim street lights.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A mutt straying too far away from home?" he heard a mocking voice, and he froze for a moment.
"What? Ain’t anyone allowed to take a piss on no man's land now?" he shrugged, watching the owner of that voice coming out of the dark. If it was just one guy, it wasn't going to be a problem. Even two or three. After that, he didn't really know.
He felt his stomach clenching as five guys all dressed in white jumpsuits appeared in his line of sight. Maybe he could throw a punch and run away. He was known to be a good sprinter.
"No longer no man's land," one of them spoke, with an ugly smile on his face. "It's ours."
"Alright," he raised his hands in defeat. There was no point in playing the hero. "Sorry, didn't get the memo," he joked.
"The what?" another asked, earning a slap upside the head from the one who seemed to be their leader.
"Nothing, stupid mutt here thinks he owns the place and he’s smart about it, too."
"I don't think that, really," Jake moved backward, his eyes darting in all directions for a fast exit.
The move almost took him by surprise. The first to talk swung a chain with the clear intention to wipe out his feet. He jumped just in time.
Damn, he was fucked. If he was going to get out of there with just a few broken bones, he was going to be lucky. Cold sweat was pooling on the small of his back. He took a defensive stance, scanning his opponents, searching for a weakness. His eyes darted to the left. The man on the extreme right was short, and he was nervously clasping a baseball bat.
He swung fast in that direction, pushing the little man against the one next to him and making both stumble and fall like two crash test dummies. He started running, with the other three after him, while the two were scrambling to get back on their feet. When the chain connected with his shoulder, he did not repress a loud yell. Apparently, he was not that great a sprinter.
He continued to run, ignoring the pain in his shoulder or at least trying to. He was not going to make it far, running like this. This was not a neighborhood he knew too well.
He took a wrong turn and reached a dead end. The walls right and left were too tall to climb. He was fucking doomed.
He turned with his hands above his head.
"Alright, no need to get freaky about it. If my brother finds out you beat me up ..."
"He will kick your ass for not being able to fend for yourself," the man who seemed the leader got closer, swinging his chain.
Jake did not deny. Yes, that could be a possibility. The new head of The Outsiders was not known to be kind to losers, even if one of those losers was his baby brother.
He danced to the right when the man tried to hit him. He could not postpone the inevitable. He wasn't going to let them win without breaking a sweat, at least.
He dodged every time the man tried to hit him. The others were growing nervous, and soon enough, he was pushed with his back against the wall. One man pulled him by the jacket and threw him on the ground. He tensed and got up in one single graceful move. He could have been a gymnast; his PE teacher used to say that. At least, his agility was serving a purpose now. Not that it mattered. He was brought down again, and he fought against his assailants without yelling or begging.
"What is going on here?" a voice with a strange strong accent made everyone stop.
Jake's assailants turned to look at the intruder. "None of your goddamn business, Fritz," the leader hissed.
From the ground, Jake could not see the newcomer too well, the street light throwing a strange aura on his silhouette. The stranger looked much better dressed than the punks on the streets at that hour, and his blond hair was impeccable. At least, Jake thought it was blond, seeing how the light glowed and danced on it. There was not enough light to see the man's face, but he had fair hair, that was sure.
The man tsked in displeasure at the comment. "I believe you scumbags should address me more respectfully," he said in a bored tone. "My name is Klaus Metzger, and you should better remember it."
"That so?" the man with the chain ignored Jake to face the blond man.
Jake felt almost like laughing, as he watched how his attacker's arm was easily twisted to his back, making him drop the chain that fell on the pavement with a loud thump.
"I strongly suggest all of you take a hike," the man who said his name was Klaus continued in the same bored tone. "Unless you want me to entertain myself all night long breaking your bones."
"Get him! Get him!" the man with his arm twisted at his back bellowed, and the others approached, although hesitantly. The blond twisted the man's arm tighter. "Are you sure? Your friends don't seem that pleased to see me how I'm going to rip your arm off," he said calmly.
The man started to howl, as more pressure was applied to his shoulder. "Maybe you could all be a match against me," the blond continued in the same even tone as if he was not making any effort to keep the man in his grip like that. "But he will lose his arm," he added matter-of-factly.
He pushed the man down, at his feet, and kicked him once in the ribs for good measure. The others made a move forward, but the blond moved so fast and punched one of the assailants so hard in the face that Jake had to wince hearing the bones cracking. That was going to be one ugly nose, after painful months of healing.
The other three rushed to hit the man and Jake witnessed a rare demonstration of martial arts like he had never seen in his entire life. In less than three minutes, all the five guys were on the ground, whining like a bunch of dogs.
Apprehensively, Jake got to his feet, limping a little. He grimaced at the pain in his shoulder.
"Please, don't beat me up," he spoke, as he gingerly found his way through the men crushed on the ground and raised his hands in surrender.
The blond seemed unmoved like a statue, in the faint light. "You come with me," he gestured towards Jake with two fingers.
"Hell no," Jake protested faintly. He had too little energy left to fight.
"Do you want me to beat you up?" the man inquired, with a tinge of amusement in his voice.
Jake shook his head. He was in no position to fight. He followed the other, and only then he noticed the guy was wearing an impeccable suit. Jake thought it would be wise just to do what the man said for the time being. No point in angering a guy who moved like Bruce Lee, while wearing Armani or shit like that.
He saw a dark silhouette was holding the door to a black limousine as he walked behind the man. Jake's eyes grew as big as saucers. What was a big shot like this Klaus guy doing in a seedy neighborhood?
"All is well, sir?" the man holding the door inquired politely.
"Everything is perfect, Thompson. No need to worry. You, get inside," he half turned to gesture at Jake to climb inside the car.
Jake did as told and tried to assume a relaxed posture. Whatever the guy wanted, it was not going to involve force, or he would be on the ground, screaming with the rest by now.
The blond sat across from him, and the car door was closed carefully by the chauffeur. They scrutinized each other, as the car started moving.
Jake had to bite back a small curse. The man was fucking gorgeous. The light inside the limo was pleasant and bright enough for the two to inspect each other's features without any hindrance.
Jake understood why his attackers had called the man Fritz. He did look like a German guy. He could have been poster boy for Germany. Perfectly shaved, his blond hair neatly combed over his hair, almost white, like platinum, and deep blue eyes that were seemingly asking Jake to dive in. His face was a bit harsh but harmonious, and the dark blue suit was complementing his perfect features. Although Jake could swear, the guy would have looked fantastic in about anything he wanted to wear, even crocs or something stupid like that.
He was gawking, most probably, because a small all-knowing smile danced on the man's lips. Jake felt like he wanted to bite on his fist all of a sudden. The man had such beautiful lips, soft and inviting, nothing like the rest of his face or figure. They were making him even more attractive. When he smiled, perfect rows of pearly white teeth showed. The man looked as if he had been made in a lab and not born from the coupling of two human beings.
"So ..." the man started, and Jake could swear he looked a bit amused.
"I'm Jake," Jake offered his hand quickly, and the man shook it shortly.
"So Jake, how do you plan on repaying me?"
The man chuckled softly, making Jake squirm a little in his place. "Saving you back there?"
Something in the way Klaus said the last word made Jake grow hot a little. What the hell? He thought. The man's eyes were measuring him up and down as if they could see through clothes. Jake felt self-conscious all of a sudden.
"What do you want? Info on those guys?" Jake nervously clasped his knees with his palms.
Klaus shook his head slowly.
"Want me to run some errands for you, then? I’m good around the city, and I know people," Jake offered.
Again, his offer was met with denial.
"What then? I don't have too much money on me, and you don't look like you need some change anyway," Jake said warily.
"You were on my territory tonight," Klaus said almost accusatory.
"Shit," Jake murmured. "When did that change? I don't know anything."
"It is mine now. Whoever trespasses at this hour has to pay what's due."
"Due? But those guys ...?"
"They got what was coming to them. You, on the other hand," the man looked at Jake, his eyes at half-mast, "you look like you are a different breed."
Somewhat this man was making him feel like cattle when he spoke like that.
"So, do you still plan on beating me up?" Jake looked the other in the eyes. He wasn’t going to cower if that was the case.
The man shook his head. Slowly, with studied gestures, he took out a cigarette and lit it up with a golden lighter that disappeared into his pocket as fast as it was produced from there.
"How old are you, Jake?" Klaus inquired.
"21," he said curtly.
"What experience do you have with men?"
Jake's mouth fell agape. Was the man saying what he thought he was saying?
"None," he said slowly.
Fuck, fuckity, fuck, he thought. Was the guy some homophobe who beat up people who he thought to be gay or something? Technically, Jake wasn't .... well he wasn't an active gay guy because he had never done anything with anyone. His fantasies could not count, could they?
"I want to see you naked," Klaus demanded.
"What?! No way!" Jake protested.
"There are worse things than getting naked in a car with only one person as an audience."
"Why do you want to see me naked? Are you a homo?"
The man's beautiful eyes turned into slits. Talking about wrong things to say.
"Watch your mouth. What I am is none of your business. I interrupted my evening to save your sorry ass from the clutches of your enemies, while you were wandering in my territory. The least you could offer is to do as asked," Klaus's voice sounded hard and cold as ice.
"Alright, fine," Jake pulled at the sleeves of his leather jacket. He was thankful for his dark complexion as he was pretty sure he was blushing like crazy. He was about to get naked for a guy.
He took off his t-shirt next, allowing the man to see his perfect abs. At least he had nothing to be ashamed about. He waited, unsure if he should continue.
"What part of naked you do not understand?" Klaus inquired, no trace of emotion in his voice.
Cursing under his breath, Jake pushed down his jeans and his underwear along with his socks and shoes. He stood like that, his legs parted, waiting.
"Nice cock," the man smiled, and Jake felt the familiar stir in his loins. The kind he got when watching skin magazines showing naked guys. "Obviously, it is standing up to attention," Klaus's voice grew a bit thick.
Overly conscious of his state of undress, Jake placed his hands over his manhood, to hide it from prying eyes. Klaus took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing smoke through his mouth, and Jake thought stupidly how he wanted to be something the man would like to take in his mouth. He shook his head at the thought, making the man’s smile widen.
The window was lowered a couple of inches, and the man kicked off the half-smoked cigarette. Then he turned his attention to Jake. Klaus was taking his time watching Jake’s naked form, and Jake could swear he could feel the man’s eyes following every edge, every nook and cranny visible. It felt invasive, like he was touched from head to toes, as if the man wanted to get inside him from all sides, and spill Jake’s secrets through all his pores.
“What?” he asked, and for some reason, his voice sounded hoarse.
Klaus said nothing and just continued to stare. Even more, he bent slightly, as if he was curious about something. The last thing Jake wanted was to look into those deep blue eyes from up close. He noticed how the man’s eyes were fringed by long eyelashes, darker than his hair. He took in the aristocratic nose, the high cheekbones, and those frigging kissable lips. Unconsciously, he drew a deep breath.
“Do you like what you see?” Klaus asked, amusement sparkling in his eyes and dancing on his lips.
“I should be the one asking that,” Jake said, feeling a bit affronted for being caught staring.
A strong, determined hand batted his hands off his organ, and his cock was suddenly grabbed in a strong grip. Klaus continued to look at him while starting to rub his member up and down.
“Are you always this hard when a man touches you?” Klaus’s voice was deep and husky.
Fuck, he was hard. He hadn’t even registered he was getting a boner while being watched like that by eyes blue like the summer sky. He hissed and closed his eyes. He was sure he was sweating so badly, that the seat beneath him was going to get soaked through. Klaus didn’t seem to joke about it; his hand continued the steady pumping, and Jake wanted nothing but for the man to stop. Or increase his rhythm; he no longer knew what he wanted.
“Hey,” Klaus cooed gently. “Open your eyes.”
Like a petulant child, Jake shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed even more.
“If you don’t, I won’t finish,” the gorgeous man issued the casual blackmail with a small chuckle.
Surprised, Jake opened his eyes and blinked in confusion.
“Don’t, please,” he begged, although he no longer had the slightest idea what he was asking for. It was for the first time in his life that another man was touching his cock, and it felt too amazing to think straight anymore.
A hand smelling of expensive cologne and tobacco closed over his mouth, hushing him. The other started to pump him harder, and he could no longer protest, even if he wanted to. His hands grabbed helplessly at the seat fabric, as he tensed and came, his eyes locked with sapphire blues staring at him with a mix of mockery and interest he could not make any sense of. The hand over his mouth moved away, letting him express his pleasure by moaning loudly.
He closed his eyes again, his lips parted, breathing heavily. Deft fingers were pushed through his lips.
“Lick,” came the short command, and he did as told, too spent to fight such a simple order.
He tasted himself on the man’s hand, along with a scent he was certain he was forever to associate with having another orgasm facilitated by another guy. At least it was not the first time he had eaten his cum, so he was familiar with the taste. The fingers moved against his tongue, erotically, and it felt like sex. Too bad he could not get it up again so soon after the best climax in his short life.
“You can dress up,” the man eventually withdrew, and Jake quickly grabbed his clothes.
Shame and humiliation washed over him, as he was back to reality. He was quickly done while keeping his eyes cast down. He heard the man knocking softly against the screen separating them from the chauffeur, and he could tell the car was slowing down. That was his cue.
“See you around, Jake,” Klaus spoke to him, as he hurriedly opened the door to get out.
He said nothing as he almost ran away. He had no idea what that meant. But he could feel fear, coiling deep in his gut. Someone, living in the same city as he and his brother, now knew his secret. The last thing he wanted was to meet the man again.