Just Another Song
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	Vancouver, 1994 --- "You're in my booth." The voice was gravelly, low, and pissed off. "Fuck off." Alex Krycek didn't even bother to look up at the speaker. He had no desire to deal with anyone tonight, especially not some asshole kid who thought he owned the place. A half full bottle of whiskey and a single glass slammed down onto the table in front of Alex. "I said, you're in my fucking seat, asshole." "And I told you to fuck off." Alex poured more vodka into his own glass and tossed it back with a small wince. A huge hand closed on Alex's leather-clad shoulder and yanked him up. The man in front of him was about his age, maybe a few years older. He had a shock of heavy black hair in a Mohawk, and he had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his sneering mouth. The man shook Alex hard, slamming his head into the wall behind the booth. "Fuckhead," The guy muttered, shoving Alex away from the table. He raised his half empty glass in a mocking salute to Alex as he sat down. Alex settled his jacket back around his shoulders and smiled. He knew what that death's-head grin did to his face; he knew it made him look predatory and feral and dangerous. That baring of his sharp white teeth got the desired reaction from the man in front of him. It lasted no more then a moment, but it was there. Respect… and maybe even a little bit of fear. This man obviously now understood that Alex was no long-haired teenager in ripped jeans; and that he could not be pushed around. Alex sat down next to him, shoving him over rudely. "Joe Dick," The guy said in between swallows of whiskey. "Alex." Something in him recognized the man next to him. One predator sensing another. Joe nodded, then went back to his drinking. --- An hour later, they were both near the bottom of the bottles, just past drunk and well on their way to hammered. It turned out that Joe was a talker once you got him going on his favorite subject. Himself. It was a decent story too; successful band, asshole record company execs, whiskey and coke. Sounded like a shitload of fun, actually. Alex just sat and listened, like he always did. He'd figured out a long time ago that if you just sat and listened, all kinds of useful information was apt to fall into your lap. Eventually Joe ran out of steam, and the conversation stopped. Alex peered at him, trying to imagine Joe onstage. That pissed off attitude, the larger than life personality, the rough voice; Joe would strut like he owned the place, and, hell, maybe when he was onstage he did. Alex thought he'd like to see that someday. Pity the band was history. But for now, Alex was more than happy to be sitting here, next to Joe in this shitty bar; getting drunk, and listening to Joe ramble about the music and Bucky Haight and some asshole named Billy. Alex had taken special note of the 'Billy' rants, because Joe's voice changed when he said the name. There was something there, something fucking huge. "Look at that fucker." Joe jerked his glass towards a kid standing at the bar. And he was a kid. Shit, he didn't look old enough to drive, let alone to drink. "What about him?" "Watch him, stupid." So Alex did, eyeing the kid over his glass. Jet black hair- obviously dyed- spiked up high; torn tee-shirt and shredded jeans; black boots, too new to have seen very much street time. But the thing Alex noticed the most was the kid's eyes; hungry and hot enough to burn, they twitched almost as much as his hands. He was looking at Joe like he was a five-course meal with dessert. Hell, he was practically salivating. "I get it." Joe shifted next to Alex, their shoulders rubbing familiarly. "Sometimes they want some fucking advice; how to play, how to write, how to live." Joe poured more whiskey. "But sometimes they wanna fuck; get a piece of the legend for themselves." Joe threw back the whiskey. "Shit, it's like they all want a damn piece of Joe Dick, extra–fucking-ordinaire. But then they just keep taking and taking… until there isn’t shit left for me." Alex eyed the kid at the bar, turning Joe's words over in his mind. He leaned close to Joe, lowering his voice. "Well, why don't we fucking take something back?" Joe's eyes locked with his for a moment, and it was like a light snapped on. He looked back at the kid at the bar and smiled a predator's smile. "Sounds like fun to me." "Doesn't it just?" Alex finished his vodka and stood, pleasantly surprised to find that he was only a little unsteady on his feet. "You go out back, and I'll get the kid." Joe's eyes looked hungry now; greedy and dangerous; and Alex suspected that his own looked the same. Joe nodded, standing shakily, that feral smile still on his face. --- Jesus, the kid was skinny, Alex thought as he walked towards the bar. But only coke-skinny, not hungry-skinny; so he was obviously not starving. That, combined with the relatively new boots, told Alex that he wasn't some poor homeless kid. A starving artist, musician probably, if his near worship of Joe Dick was anything to go by. The boy looked at Alex as he approached, stepping forward to meet him near a table. "You were sitting with Joe Dick." The words were incredulous, and Alex had to laugh at them. "Yes, I was. And he'd like to speak to you." Alex had to choke back another laugh at the look on the boy's face. God, it looked like he was about to come in his damn pants at the thought. This kid thought Joe Dick was a god. Was this what life was like for Joe Dick? A constant parade of idiot hangers on, forcing him to relive past glories? Alex motioned towards the back door, and the kid practically tripped over his own feet getting there. How pathetic, Alex sneered as he followed. Joe was in the alley, waiting for them, leaning against the brick, cigarette in his mouth, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed until one saw the lines of tension in his shoulders and the swelling at his groin. Alex smiled to himself- he'd been right, this one was a predator just waiting for the right opportunity to go for the throat. Just as Alex was; and it was refreshing to be recognized, to be known for what he was. The kid almost ran up to Joe, circling around him like a yapping puppy begging for attention. Alex just leaned back and waited for Joe to go for the kill. It didn’t take long. The boy kept up a running commentary about how much he loved Joe's music, his writing, the band… him. The whole scene stank of desperation and sadness. Apparently Joe felt it, too. "Shut the fuck up." Joe's words seemed harsh, his voice drowning out the kid's. Alex bit back another laugh at the shocked look on the boy's face. He certainly hadn't expected that, had he? "You wanna know what you can do for me, kid?" Joe took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. "You can drop your fucking pants." The kid looked from Joe to Alex, and then back again in a near panic. "What? I don't-" "You can either drop your pants or start swallowing teeth." Joe moved pretty damn fast for such a big guy, and he shoved the kid backwards with his own body. Alex met Joe's eyes and quickly moved behind the kid, making sure he couldn't retreat any further. "Mr. Dick, I mean, Joe, I don't know what… I mean, I just wanted to talk to you about my music. Maybe see if you knew some people who could help me out. I play guitar, write some music. If you've got some time, I'd like to play for you. Get the opinion of a great musician and all." The boy's blathering was beginning to piss Alex off. Joe, too, apparently, because he wrapped one huge hand in the kid's shirt and shook him hard. "Shut the fuck up! You want advice from the great Joe fucking Dick? Do what I tell you." Alex saw some stacked boxes a few feet away and caught Joe's eyes with his own. He could feel the predatory smile on his face and saw an answering one on Joe's. Between them the kid had fallen silent, but Alex could feel small tremors moving through his body. Alex didn't know if it was fear or desire, and realized that he didn't give a shit. Joe didn't seem to care either. He shook the kid one last time, then stepped away. "You…" he glared at the kid hard, "get the fuck over there. Drop your pants and bend over those fucking boxes." The kid's eyes were wide, and his mouth opened and closed, like he wanted to say something but didn't dare. With one last shiver the boy did as Joe had ordered. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and his ass was as white as paper against his dark jeans and shirt. Joe started to unfasten his jeans, stepping up behind the boy. His dark eyes met Alex's, and he bared his teeth like an animal. "And open your fucking mouth for my friend." Alex's cock, which had been half-hard since he had recognized Joe for the predator he was, got even harder. He and Joe, both fucking this boy at the same time, using him… Alex stifled a groan at the image. He sure as hell wasn't about to pass up this chance. So he unzipped his own jeans and walked around until he faced Joe. He glanced down at the boy, spread out between them. The kid had his mouth open obediently, and while there was fear in his eyes it was overlaid with something else- acceptance, satisfaction almost. Maybe this was what the kid had wanted all along. Alex slowly stroked his cock as he watched Joe do the same thing. Joe spat into his other hand, then switched hands, smoothing his spit along his cock. His eyes met Alex's again, and without a word he held out his hand. Alex leaned forward a little and spat into it as well, smelling the musky scent of Joe's skin. Joe's hand moved along his cock again, slowly, his eyes never leaving Alex's. He lined up and then shoved himself deep, one hand on the boy's bony hip. Alex heard the kid whimper, but didn’t bother to look at his face. He didn't matter. Their eyes locked and held as Joe began to thrust roughly into the body below him. Alex finally released his cock and rubbed a finger over the boy's lower lip. Apparently he had taken Joe's words to heart, because he took Alex's cock deep into his throat, swallowing around it like a damn pro. It was hot and wet and slick and fucking perfect; and Alex felt his eyes begin to flutter shut. He fought it, not wanting to look away from Joe. He might not have been the most handsome man, but like this- head titled back, the tendons in his neck standing out, hips moving- Joe looked like a fucking god. Alex began to thrust into the kid's mouth, matching his rhythm to Joe's. When they got a rhythm going it was fucking amazing. They both moved into the body between them at the same time; their eyes locked together. It was like Joe was fucking him; and like he was fucking Joe, all at the same time. The boy had ceased to be anything more then an extension of their bodies, and Alex didn’t waste any energy worrying about him. Joe's thrusts sped up first, getting jerky and rough. Alex followed suit, his hand fisting into the boy's spiked hair. Joe groaned, leaning forward over the boy's body, one hand reaching for Alex's shoulder. He yanked Alex forward, towards him, and Alex's cock drove deep into the boy's throat. "Fucker." Joe muttered, his mouth meeting Alex's. Their lips pressed together, teeth grinding, tongues twisting. Alex was dimly aware of the body between them moving, the kid gasping, and of a pair of hands grabbing at his ass, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the whiskey and cigarette taste of Joe's mouth, and the way his tongue took possession of Alex. With a grunt that was muffled by Alex's mouth, Joe came, his hips pressing deep then stopping. Alex traced the roof of Joe's mouth with his tongue, and his back arched almost to the breaking point as he came as well. Joe stepped back, pulling out of the kid's body with another grunt. The boy tried to stand, letting Alex's softening cock slip out of his mouth. Alex's hands were shaking as he tucked himself back into his jeans. Joe reached out for Alex's shoulders and slammed him back against the bricks hard enough that Alex saw stars. Alex was barely aware of the boy yanking up his pants and ducking down the alley towards the street. Before Alex could even begin to recover, Joe's mouth was on his, and Alex's entire world narrowed to the feel of Joe's heavy body pressing him into the wall. When Joe finally pulled back it was only to breathe, and he kept a tight hold on Alex, as if afraid he would run away. "I wanna fuck you." The words were a low growl. Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather fuck you." Alex easily broke Joe's hold and spun him around, shoving him face first into the wall. He reached around, pressing his forearm hard into Joe's throat, holding him in place with his body. Joe struggled hard, and for a moment, Alex thought he'd get loose. Joe's face was turned to the side, his cheek pressed to the bricks. Alex could see the curve of his mouth, lips pulled back to bare sharp teeth; the line of his cheek, flushed with anger; and above that, one eye, glittering brightly. Good. He'd never be able to get free unless he could think, and, right now, he was too pissed off. Alex grabbed Joe's ass with his free hand, rubbing his thumb along the seam in the denim there, feeling the heat that was radiating off of Joe's body. Joe's struggles stopped, and his hands fell to his sides. "You think it's gonna be that easy?" That same snide, superior tone- the one he'd used on the kid- was back in Joe's voice. Joe had no idea of the things Alex was capable of. He didn't know about the gun at the small of his back or the knife in his boot, both having been freshly used this week. Alex chuckled darkly. He wanted this now, and if he had to, Joe would find out about one or both of them. "I think you're easy, Joe." Alex's hand slipped under the waistband of Joe's unzipped jeans, sliding across sweat-slick skin and yanking the denim down over his hips. His thumb rubbed across Joe's hole, pressing in lightly. Angry or not, Joe couldn't keep his hips from pushing back into the movement, his body begging for more even as his mouth cursed Alex. "How long has it been since anyone fucked you, Joe?" Alex leaned closer, pressing his lips to the warm curve of Joe's ear. He pushed his thumb in deeper, rocking it back and forth. "If it helps you can call me Billy while I do it." Alex, true to his nature, went right for the throat. Joe stiffened against him, his hands coming back up to claw at Alex's restraining arm. "Fuck you." The words were vicious, and Alex felt warmth along the side of his face as Joe spat at him. Alex wasn't impressed. He pulled his thumb free of Joe's body, reaching out to casually wipe the spit off of his cheek with his index finger. "No… fuck you." Alex dropped his hand to Joe's bared ass again, pushing roughly back in with two fingers, now slick with Joe's spit. He twisted his hand, brushing across Joe's prostate. Joe's eyes rolled up into his head and his hips shoved back, hard, onto Alex's fingers. "You're so tight, Joe… been a long time, hasn't it?" Alex rubbed his cock, hard and hot, against Joe's bare hip. Another thrust, another press against the Joe's prostate. "You want me to fuck you, and you know it." He thrust again, deeper, shoving Joe forward so that his hard cock rubbed across the rough bricks. Joe made a strangled groaning noise, and Alex didn't care if it was pleasure or pain. "You picked me up… all that shit about the band…" Alex paused to sink his teeth hard into the side of Joe's throat, wanting to mark him as his. "You did it because I was dangerous." A particularly hard thrust wrung a moan out of Joe. "You want to fight first? Want me to take it from you?" Thrust, press, another moan, this one almost a whimper. "I will. I'm betting you like it rough anyway." Alex pulled back just far enough so he could see Joe's face again, and he increased the pressure of his forearm on Joe's windpipe. Joe began to gasp, his body thrashing as he struggled for air. But Joe never stopped fucking himself on Alex's fingers. Joe's face was red, his eyes rolling in their sockets as he came with a silent cry. Alex rode it out, pressing his fingers steadily against Joe's prostate. When Joe's body sagged heavily against his, Alex finally let up the pressure on his throat. Joe took several huge gulping breaths, as he tried to get his feet under him. Alex licked a path up the side of Joe's throat, and slowly withdrew his fingers. As he stepped back, Joe's body folded, and he hit the ground on his knees, still panting, eyes closed, forehead resting against the wall. Alex leaned over Joe, forearms braced on his knees. "If I want to fuck you, I'll fuck you. And you damn well know it." He rubbed a comforting hand over his own hard cock, trying to stay in control. He wanted to fuck Joe, but he didn’t want to do it in an alley. He wanted Joe in a real bed, on his hands and knees, his ass in the air. It was intoxicating; knowing that he had bested someone who was so wild, so dangerous- that he'd turned another predator into prey. "Now, get the hell up. We're going to your place. And I'm going to fuck you." Joe staggered unsteadily to his feet, not meeting Alex's eyes. He straightened his clothes and smoothed his hair before nodding. Alex could see what that had cost Joe, and he fully intended to reward him for it later. And when Joe led the way out of the alley, Alex couldn't keep the grin off of his face. But it didn’t feel like a smile; it felt like a snarl. Which was perfectly understandable, considering how hungry Alex was right now. All in all, this was proving to be a few very good days in Canada.
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