The Deserted House

(Part 1 from 2)

As Birling Gap approached rapidly, Thom suddenly peeled the bike off left and slammed on the brakes just before shooting over the precipice. Both men jumped off and Thom ran at the last house in the line of houses yet to drop off the edge of the country. He kicked the barely boarded door open, abruptly exhausted by the strenuous day. Seth glared at him as he marched past him into the deserted house.

Seth was furious. He’d climbed off the back of the bike, rubbed his sore arse and stormed into the empty house. His inner thighs ached and he was tired. Shivering in the cold wind off the sea in Hastings had left him feeling drained. He wondered how Kane could stand the climate in England. Seth had been feeling damp since getting off the plane.

He looked around the deserted room, taking in the broken drop-leaf table, an overstuffed ragged armchair and other bits of abandoned detritus of the lives that were lived there. At the back of the room on the left, a steep carpeted staircase led up to the next floor. He heard movement behind him and turned to face Thom, the jumble of words in his mind beginning to take on a bitter, angry shape. He watched as Thom casually sauntered into the centre of the room and looked around, as if entering a hotel and scoping out the services. The man had been irritating Seth from the start of the run. An irritation compounded by the fact that Seth had been tormented by a hard-on most of the time because of his close proximity to Thom’s tight backside.

Thom ignored him as he carefully removed his gloves. He chucked them down by his lid, which he’d placed on the table. He glanced up at Seth casually, taking in the thunderous brow under the blonde curls. He felt a momentary warmth in his groin when he took in the unique fiery green of Seth’s eyes, but ignored it. Wasn’t like he could do anything about the fact Seth made him want to throw off his clothes and fuck until they were both unconscious. He knew Seth was angry but at what, he had no idea. Bollocks to him, he thought, not my fucking problem!

Seth watched as Thom removed his rings from his jeans pocket and slowly put them on his fingers. He seethed as Thom slipped the claw ring onto his left index finger and then flexed it to get the fit comfortable. When he’d finished, Thom held his spread hands out in front of him and admired his adornments. What was with all the hardware anyway? Seth thought, Who does he think he is? Ozzy fucking Osborne??

Outside, the storm built in intensity, thrashing the last remaining houses that hadn‘t yet slipped off the cliff. Lightning flashed again and the room lit up, stark and bright. Thom’s face stood out, the paleness of his skin in stark contrast to his dark hair. The brilliant blue of his eyes glowed eerily. He looked like Lucifer in that one brief second, conjured straight from the pits of hell to corrupt. Seth shivered and was surprised when his cock jerked in his jeans. Sin incarnate, he thought as he studied Thom.
“What the fuck is your problem?” He asked above the tempest outside, ignoring the sudden heat in his groin. Thom looked up and shrugged, a picture of indifference.

“No problem,” he said offhandedly, his apparent composure riling Seth even more. “You got a problem?” One ebony eyebrow rose just a little with the question, exaggerating the sardonic slant to his expression.

Thom sauntered over to the armchair and flopped into it, clearly worn out from the day’s ride. Seth bristled. The trouble was, he couldn’t quite figure out why. Thom had ignored him most of the time during the run. He’d chatted to his biker mates and left Seth standing alone awkwardly among the heaving crowds. Maybe it was that; or maybe it was the fact that Thom intrigued him. Perhaps it was the fact that Seth wanted him and didn’t care to admit it to himself when Thom was being such an arse. He went with the first because the other reasons were more than a little disturbing.

“You ignored me all day! I felt like a spare fucking part! The least you could have done was introduce me to your buddies!” Seth growled, knowing he was being unreasonable.
“You’re not my fucking missus,” Thom observed as he laid his head back against the high back of the chair and closed his eyes.
Just that small casual action burned Seth up. He strode over and stood in front of the chair, his hands on his hips.
“Maybe, but I was riding with you and you could have been a little more civil,” he said, “And at least have the decency to look at me when I’m talking to you!”
“Like I said; you’re not my fucking wife!” Thom reiterated a little louder, raking his wicked gaze slowly up to Seth’s face.

“No, thank God!” Seth grated, “but the least you could have…..” his words were drowned out by a vibrating, deep rumble of thunder. The storm was almost directly overhead now.
“Shut up for fuck’s sake, you stupid twat,” Thom grumbled, “I’m tired, I’m hungry and I want to sleep not listen to you whingeing like some fucking baby! You want me to wipe your fucking arse for you too?”
Seth stepped forward to put his hands on the arms of the chair, and leaned over Thom.

“Now you listen to me you half-baked arsehole! I’m not one of your biker buddies that you can push around when the mood takes you! And don’t you ever disrespect me!” Seth growled, his face close to Thom’s, “and I’m not a ‘twat’, whatever that is!”.
“Get out of my face,” Thom rumbled, low and dangerous. He layered each word with menace.
“Don’t tell me what to do! I’ll do what the hell I fucking please!”
Thom’s eyes opened slowly, his face grim.

“I said; get the fuck outta my face!” Thom hissed so low that Seth barely heard him. He suddenly realized that he might have gone a little too far. Thom’s face was dark with fury, his eyes flashing cerulean with the promise of suppressed violence. Seth stared into them and sensed that the mood wasn’t quite what it seemed. There was something else in the air that smacked of untamed desire, primal instinct and feral lust. Throwing caution to the wind, he went with the only thing that came to mind.
“Make me, dip-shit!” he grated softly. There was a momentary pause while they stared into each-other’s eyes. Blue on green, green on blue.


Then Thom burst into action so fast it took Seth’s breath away. He grabbed Seth by the lapels and threw himself out of the chair, pushing Seth along in front of him. Seth stumbled back, surprised at Thom’s explosive speed. He was shoved backwards, Thom gripping the lapels of his jacket in both hands. Thom’s eyes were almost purple with anger as he forcibly drove Seth backwards across the room, as if a blazing red fire had been lit behind the cobalt. Seth’s back slammed into the wall with a thud and his breath flew out of him with a whoosh!

“You stuck up, po-faced, fucking arsehole twat!” Thom screamed into Seth’s face. “Who the fuck do you think you are! Just because we wanked together last night doesn’t give you the right to shove me around, wanker!”
Seth saw red. He brought his hands up and drove them into Thom’s chest violently. Thom lost his grip on Seth’s jacket and stumbled back, a look of surprise on his face. He never expected Seth to be so strong. Thom assumed he’d be soft because Kane was so mellow. But Seth was a metal worker and used to lugging around huge bits of machinery so he was a lot stronger than he looked. Thom regained his balance and stared at Seth, realising that he might have underrated him. Seth stepped forward, thrust his hands into Thom’s chest again and shoved Thom back another couple of paces.

“Don’t you push me around, you fucker!” Seth growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Thom glanced around quickly, looking for an avenue of escape. His instinct told him to get the hell away from Seth as quickly as possible. Though not afraid to stand up for himself, he sensed Seth might just give his arse a thorough kicking. His eyes fell on the stairs and he decided now was a good time to leave; fast. Really bloody fast.

“Tosser!” he threw at Seth and pushed him away to bolt for the stairs, his intention to shut himself in one of the upstairs rooms. As long as the floor didn’t collapse under him, that was.

But Seth was also quick. He sprang after Thom, hard on his heels and caught him as he took the stairs two at a time. He grabbed the back of Thom’s jacket and yanked. The T-shirt under it ripped open to reveal the tattoo on Thom’s back; the Celtic circle with a twisted tree intertwined in the knot-work. Thom’s jacket and the remnants of his shirt slid off his back and down to his elbows. Thom stumbled and came down onto the steps hard on his hands and knees. Seth released the leather jacket and gripped the waistband of his jeans to drag him down a couple of stairs. Thom lashed his boot out backwards at Seth and caught him on the thigh. Seth winced at the kick but held onto Thom’s jeans. He threw himself forward onto the too sexy biker, driving him onto his stomach on the stairs.
Seth leaned over Thom and putting his lips close to Thom’s ear, he growled, “You’re gonna pay for that, dick-head!” To emphasise his position of power, he licked the edge of Thom’s ear.

Thom twisted his head around and glared into Seth’s blazing green eyes. Their faces were inches apart, so each could feel the breath of the other. The moment hung between them, as if time itself waited to see what would come next.
“Make me!” Thom hissed without thinking, his voice suddenly rough. His eyes glowed with an inner sapphire light that took Seth’s breath away. He knew then that something had changed between them, something fundamental. Seth felt it in the pit of his belly; a deep yearning that had his breathing hissing out in short fast gasps. He leaned forward quickly and clamped his lips hard over Thom’s, the need to taste too strong to resist.

Thom’s eyes flew wide and he let out a small sound of surprise. Seth stopped it with his tongue, forcing it between Thom’s lips, the tip laving the inside of his mouth roughly. Thom forced Seth’s tongue out of his mouth with his own and then he bit down on Seth’s lip. Seth released him and swore, tasting blood on his lips.
“You fucking bastard!” he grated, “you bit me!”

“Serves you right, wank-stain! Let me go!” Thom struggled briefly but Seth held him down easily. He was a bit bulkier than Thom so he had the advantage, and he intended to use it.

Seth rolled Thom onto his back on the stairs and holding him in place with a firm hand planted in the centre of his chest; he quickly undid the heavy buckle of Thom’s belt and his flies. He tore Thom’s jeans down to his knees, taking note that Thom’s thick uncut cock was steely hard and wet with pre-come. His own cock throbbed painfully in the confines of his jeans at the sight, so he unzipped himself quickly to relieve the pressure. His underwear covered cock sprang out through his fly. He rolled Thom back onto his stomach and spat onto his hand. He pushed his hand between Thom’s white cheeks and smeared his saliva across Thom’s puckered hole. Then he rammed a wet finger into him. Thom gasped and jumped at the invasion. Seth pumped his finger in and out while Thom swore harshly. Seth withdrew his finger and then rammed in two. Thom jumped again and screamed into the thunder which crashed directly overhead. But he drew his knees up underneath himself and pushed his backside up to meet Seth’s hand.

“Fuck…..fuck!!” Thom gasped “Get out of my arse, wanker……God, that fucking hurts!!” while his body screamed he wanted more not less.
Seth ignored him, pressing his body down harder, and continued pumping his fingers deeper and deeper into Thom.
Thom writhed on the stairs, his panted breaths rasping and fast. He was more turned on than he’d ever been in his life, his cock harder than it had ever been, pre-come dripping onto the stairs underneath him. Even though Seth’s fingers caused a little pain, he wanted more. He pushed his arse up higher, opening himself up to further abuse.

“Fuck......don’t..!” Thom screamed, “don’t stop......don’t you fucking stop...!”
Seth couldn’t have even if he wanted to. He leaned forward and spat a wad of saliva into Thom’s arse crack. His fingers pumped into Thom all the easier, slipping in and out with slick wet noises.
Then Seth pulled his fingers from Thom, spread his arse cheeks apart and fixed his mouth over the too tempting wet, quivering hole. He forced his tongue through the tight ring of muscle, his lips sucking on the surrounding tender white flesh; delighting in the sweet yet musky taste of him, the barest scent of leather clinging to Thom’s skin from his jeans.

Thom was beyond caring. He wanted to be fucked, hard and fast, and he couldn’t wait anymore. The need rode him as roughly as he wanted Seth to.
“Fuck me,” he yelled above the raging storm outside, “for God’s sake fuck me now!!”

Seth pulled his mouth off the sweetness of Thom’s arsehole and quickly undid his jeans to drop them. He freed his pulsing, rock-like cock, smeared his pre-come over the bulbous head and rammed himself hard into Thom’s waiting, wanting hole.
Thom screamed again, the force of Seth’s thrust driving him up a step. Seth shuffled forward and slowly withdrew most of his seven and a half inch length to thrust himself hard back into Thom again, driving in each delicious inch. He took hold of Thom’s jacket and he fucked him, riding him like a bucking bronco; his thrusts hard and long, each one driving Thom forward slightly.

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