Sweet Lust

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic

One of many short stories based on two characters who need their own novel but since i'm too lazy to get to it... Short stories is where they'll live. In short, Maverick is an illegal escort, and his friend and NYPD detective Kindo is one hot piece of ass. As usual, they end up getting into a bit of a skirmish, will they ever just get along?


Flick. A page turned in the novel that Maverick was reading. There was silence in his small rented room, the sound proofed windows and walls lending the room a small eerie quiet that would have upset even the strongest of souls, except for the blond of course. A finger rose to his mouth and he lapped at the tip, reaching down to turn another page. The blinds were drawn; the familiar ever present smell of sex and blood lingered in the room, making it stuffy. Maverick didn’t even notice. Lying on his stomach on his small, lumpy mattress he looked the perfect example of a lazy creature, plus his bare back flowed and gleamed lightly, possibly from the shower he’d taken about half an hour ago. His towel lay discarded on the floor, his clothes stuffed into the corner, where they would stay until he felt like he needed to get up and do something about them.


He was obviously naked; the curve of his buttocks was barely covered by his thin blanket, not that he needed to show the modesty, he was alone. Still, it was habit, to cover himself after showering; he was never naked for prolonged periods of time. Unless he was having sex, then…Well that changed things. Another lick and another rustle of paper as a page was turned, his eyes turned heavy lidded and a smile curled at his lips. The smile turned into a sexy lip biting smirk, the whites of his teeth slightly visible against his pink lips.

One of his fingers rose and brushed against his lips, as if he were imagining himself being kissed. Heat coiled in his belly, tugging at his groin, causing his eyes to close in a mockery of sensual bliss. He should have felt disturbed; he’d been with some customers only moments before… He shouldn’t be feeling this hunger in his belly, this sudden heat that flushed his pale skin and made a soft groan escape his mouth. When it came to Kindo… It just didn’t matter. That detective occupied his thoughts no matter who he fucked, even in the throes of pain and pleasure he could picture Kindo’s serious face scowling at him, and of his nagging voice berating Maverick for doing what he did. A scoff escaped his lips and he opened his eyes, the novel still lay open on the bed in front of him, but the sex scene he had been reading so avidly before it had lost his appeal.

“Stupid Jap,” He said with a growl, sitting up in bed and wincing slightly as his movements made his bed screech loudly. Damn, he really to buy a new frame, no way he could bring in a lot of customers with a bed that screamed louder than he did. A chuckle escaped him at the thought before he stood, letting the blanket slide off his hips and flop uselessly against the bed. Bare feet guided him to his stained cracked mirror; he braced his hands on the surface of it and leaned forward, examining his face. Really, he knew that he wasn’t ugly but what really made him beautiful was something that always eluded him. Golden hair fell over his forehead, curling rebelliously at his ears and sliding like silk over his nape, much too sharp hazel colored eyes stared back at him intently; they were curiously devoid of any actual emotion. His plump lips curled into a smile, but still, his eyes crinkled at the corners, but not a single bit of mirth entered the flat orbs. The smile dropped from his face as he pushed back from his dresser. A flash of black and red caught his attention and he paused. Bruises and red welts adorned his skin like unwanted tattoos. Something coiled in his belly, a twisting hot mass of something he knew well. Disgust.

He was just pulling on a loose pair of sweats when a knock came at the door.

“I’m closed.” He called out, pulling on the strings to tighten the pants. Shit, they barely fit now; he’d lost weight over the past few weeks. Money was getting scarce and his customers loved the slender whores. Still… He was so hungry sometimes…

The knock came again. Harder. Only once.

“Dammit, I said I’m fucking closed. Go the fuck away.” Maverick growled, why couldn’t people listen to him when he told them things? He wasn’t going to take in any more customers; the last ones had nearly broken his back. The bastards had been heavy, and they’d taken great pleasure in watching him squirm on the mattress. Hm… That must be why his frame was so fucked up now. He gave a shrug to himself and turned away to start to tidy his room. The knocking had stopped, though he hadn’t heard the person leave, but then again, he hadn’t even been aware there was someone there until they had knocked. He sniffed at his dirty clothes and wrinkled his nose, Jesus, dried semen smelled horrible on fabric. He stuffed them into a laundry bag for later; he’d have to fish out a few quarters for the laundry mat. Maybe there were some in his couch? He knew how much those fuckers liked to roll in between the cushions.

He was on his way to the couch when he realized that there was someone trying to force his door open. The rattling of the knob was unsettling, and fear slammed into his gut. Shiiiiit. He knew he was a hot piece of ass on the market, but did they really have to try forcing their way into his room? A quick look around proved that he didn’t really have anything to defend himself with if the guy actually got into his place, so he was vulnerable… Unless he surprised the fucker. A quick nod to himself and he slipped to the side, out of view of the door, where if the guy got past his flimsy lock, he wouldn’t notice Maverick until it was too late.

A click was heard, the sound of the lock breaking under whatever the guy was using. Had to be an amateur. His body tensed as the door opened, slowly, as if the person were cautiously expecting to be attacked. They better bet their asses on it. The intruder entered his room, male, obviously by the broad shoulders. Maverick sprung from where he had been waiting, he slammed into the male, which caused the door to slam shut beneath their combined weights. His breath left his lungs in a gust of wind, shit; this guy was built like a rock! He didn’t have any time to recover, before he knew it, he was being turned; his arm was gripped and twisted behind his back. Pain flared up his spine and he couldn’t help crying out, but this was a short lived expression because he was slammed against the door, all of the air he had managed to recover rushed right back out.

The guy behind him was panting from the exertion, though his grip on Maverick’s arm never faltered nor loosened it kept the steady pain flowing, and him immobile against the risk of having the limb broken. He gasped uselessly, trying to get air into his lungs, he was seeing black spots in front of his eyes, and his lungs were burning. Shit. Why couldn’t he breathe?

“Mav?” The voice behind him came suddenly, it sounded confused and startled, and much to Maverick’s surprise he felt the grip on his arm loosen. He took advantage of the hesitation and tossed his head back. It connected with flesh and he heard a cry of pain come from behind him, his attacker released him, probably to hold the injured area. Maverick turned and tackled the male down, the other lost his balance and in a flailing of limbs they both went down and hit the ground. They rolled around the floor, slamming into furniture until Maverick managed to get on top and use his body to pin down whoever it was that had intruded into his space. Panting, feeling new bruises forming on his sides, his eyes widened as he stared into the bloodied face of his personal NYPD detective.

“Fuck, Kindo?” He said in shock, even though there was no mistake about it, the male laying back on the floor, glaring daggers at him was no other than the Jap he had been cursing before. And boy did he look pissed.

“What the fuck is the big idea? Why the hell did you attack me?” Kindo growled through bloodied lips, it seemed that one of Maverick’s less than professional blows had landed against his lip, he could see the blood slowly pooling from a cut on the other male’s lips.

“Bu-ut… I thought you… You…The lock…” Maverick stammered uselessly. Hell, had he really fucked up so bad that he had attacked Kindo?

“Get the hell off me,” Kindo snarled, his usually unemotional dark eyes flashed dangerously beneath furrowed brows. Instinctively Maverick rolled off of him and took up sanctuary near his bed, nervously watching the other male sit up on the ground. “You cut my lip dammit.” Kindo muttered, raising a hand to wipe at the blood on his lips, he gave a grimace as he stared at his bloodied digits, dark eyes rising to meet wary hazel ones. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“You broke into my room!”

“You head-butted me!”

They both exploded into action that moment, their tones accusatory, both males surging to their feet as if expecting blows from the other.

“You wouldn’t answer the damn door, how else do you expect me to get in here?” Kindo said with an eye roll.

Wait… Kindo rolled his eyes? What weird dimension had he suddenly dropped into? Kindo was usually the coldest fucker since snowmen were invented, and here he was, looking very much pissed, and very fucking sexy.

Okay, so the blood on his face actually made him look hotter… Well, honestly, had he been smeared in horseshit and dowsed in piss Maverick would have still found him sexy. The blonde was just that messed up. “I thought you were a…” He trailed off and glanced away, oh damn, this was what he hated, the difference between them, especially their professions. Kindo, so law abiding and proper and him… A whore.

“A customer.” Kindo finished for him, always so blunt, and no matter what; it still hurt whenever Kindo referred to his profession. Guess some things didn’t change in alternate dimensions after all.

“Right. So, what did you want anyway?” He tried to look tough but he saw Kindo reach back up to wipe blood from the corner of his lips and his touch act melted into concern. “You’re still bleeding,” He looked around and snagged some tissues from a box. “Here, uh, this should stop the bleeding some.” He couldn’t help himself and stepped close to Kindo, pressing the tissues to his bleeding lip. He heard the other male’s hiss of indrawn breath and a new tension in his body that hadn’t been there before.

“Tsk, you shouldn’t be bleeding this much.” Maverick murmured before he replaced the bloodied tissues with a clean one.

“I’m fine Maverick,” Kindo finally said dryly, brushing Maverick’s hands away and holding the tissue to his own lip.

Maverick couldn’t help but smile, this was the Kindo he knew and loved, self-reliant and cold. He could handle this one better than the concerned, pissed off detective any day. With a sigh, he dropped onto his bed, hearing it creak in protest. One of Kindo’s eye brows rose, and blood rushed to Maverick’s face at the look. Oh damn…

“You’ve been busy,” Kindo started in his dryly, emotionless voice.

Maverick found himself look everywhere but at the male standing in front of him, “Well, you know how it is. No rest for the prostitute gotta sell my ass to pay the bills, same old, same—AH!” His sentence ended on what appeared to be half a shriek which was drowned out by the bed’s own shrill shriek, he found himself flat against his bed, the Jap straddling his hips. A curious expression crossed the other male’s face. It was hard to read, since Mavvy wasn’t very good at reading people but… He could guess that it was… Jealousy. Kindo was jealous? Of what?

They stared at each other, Kindo looked shocked, possibly that he had reacted the way he had, this was just so unlike him to make the first move. It was quite awkward staring at each other, especially with Maverick being half naked, and the other male was just sitting there.  What was it that had made him respond with such violence? Ah… His talk of other men… The whoring… And… Oh... Shit. Kindo was actually jealous, but why? He didn’t have to be jealous of all those cods, they didn’t have anything special like Kindo did they were all assholes… Well, Kindo was an ass too, but in a nice way.

Was there a way to be an asshole and be nice at the same time? Somehow, he doubted his logic.

Kindo made a move to climb off and Maverick reacted, jerking upright and gripping the Jap’s shoulders.

“Wha—“ Kindo’s reply was cut off as their lips met. It wasn’t his normally calculated kiss, it was clumsy and hurried, as if it was something he need to get over with fast or lose his chance. The tension returned to Kindo’s body, and his hands moved to Maverick’s shoulders, intent on pushing him away, but Maverick clung to him stubbornly, the kiss growing harder.

Then. He felt it. That initial tension was gone, and the faintest of responses came from Kindo’s mouth. It was all he needed to deepen the kiss, though he was on the bottom, he still seemed to be controlling the kiss.

Well, that was until Kindo punched him.

His stomach clenched and his eyes watered, and unable to hold himself upright he fell back down onto the bed, choking and clutching his stomach.
“OW! Shi-it! You punched me!” Maverick gasped, actual tears leaking out from the sides of his eyes.

“You kissed me.” There it was again, that matter-of-fact tone that pale, slim face turned into a cold, stone hard expression.

“You didn’t have to punch me in the stomach you prick! God, it hurts.” Maverick groaned and rolled onto his front, trying to take in shallow breaths and not irritate his bruised stomach.

He heard Kindo moving around his room, his shoes tapped lightly against the wooden floors, a cabinet opened and closed in the small kitchen area at one side and his footsteps returned.

“Here,” Something cold dropped onto his back and he yelped, feeling whatever it was slip off of his back and drop onto the bed beside him. Rolling to his knees he looked down at the cold pack, before his eyes slid to Kindo who nudging something with his boot at the side of the room. A bit of squinting and Maverick identified the object. Shame blossomed in his chest and spread to his cheeks, without a word he picked up the cold pack and pressed it to his quivering stomach. He watched Kindo start to kneel and reach down…

“Don’t touch that,” He snapped, stopping Kindo in mid-reach, “Its, an… -uh…” He stammered, watching as Kindo picked up the open book—when had it even gotten on the floor anyway?—and turned it over.

He waited.

Seconds later the book went sailing through the air at Maverick, luckily he ducked before it hit him in the face.

“I-I can explain!” Maverick hastened to say as the stormy faced Jap turned his dark eyes on him.

“You wrote my name in the margins.” Kindo said simply, his voice deadly calm, his eyes not so much.

“I was um… AH DON’T HURT ME!”

The bed screeched under their combined weight, Maverick’s shouted cries of pain and Kindo’s curses and growls mixed with the ever increasing screech of the bed. Next door, an older man shook his head and turned up the volume on the 11o’clock news.


The end.

Submitted: March 04, 2013

© Copyright 2022 Emerald Skye. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Are you writing a sequel to this story? If so, I can't wait for it!

Tue, March 5th, 2013 3:49am


Heh. Check out Bittersweet Moments, it's also a short story based off of these two characters. I will be writing a lot more short stories on them, so stay tuned c;

Mon, March 4th, 2013 8:37pm

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