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“Fuck it,” said Ace Frehley. “I need a drink.”
The KISS guitarist had been requested, nay, demanded, to stay sober for twenty-four hours, and Gene Simmons had been put in charge of making sure he stayed that way. The concert tomorrow night was a big one, and Ace knew he’d been fucking up a lot lately. Normally he tried to convince everyone that he played better drunk than sober, but recently they’d stopped buying into that.
The rest of the band, plus Bill and Sean, had cornered him last night after a particularly rocky gig where he’d absolutely murdered the “Love Gun” solo, and not in a good way. Paul was livid. Ace had never seen him so angry – usually he and Paul got along great, sometimes they even went to bed together… though come to think of it, that was happening less and less these days. Shame, because Ace quite liked sleeping with Paul – he was enthusiastic in the sack, noisy as hell, and always made sure Ace had a good time.
“Tomorrow night is Vegas, Ace,” Paul had hissed. “You can’t fucking play like that.”
“Even I noticed what a mess it was,” said Peter, shaking his head. It was rare for the Catman to side with Paul, especially since his own partying was as bad or worse than Ace’s.
“C’mon, Pete…”
“Twenty-four hours, Ace,” said Bill, shaking his head.
“Twenty-four hours what?”
“Sober. Play the Vegas show straight.” The manager looked at his watch.
Gene laughed, shaking his head. “Good luck getting that out of him. He’s going to need an armed guard.”
“We have one,” said Sean. “You.”
“Oh, no,” said Gene. “I don’t want to be in charge of keeping Ace sober for even five minutes.”
“Why not put Paulie in charge of me?” Ace asked. He looked at Paul with heavy lidded eyes, then bit his lip. “I can think of ways you could keep me busy for twenty-four hours.”
Paul glowered at him. “Dream on, Ace. But I’ll tell you what. You make it through twenty-four hours and you play the show without fucking up… we can talk about it.”
“Really?”
Paul smiled slowly. “Sure. At least I know you won’t cheat on me.”
“He’s been cheating on you with booze, Paul,” Gene said shortly.
“And since you’re the only one who doesn’t drink, Gene, that’s why we’re locking him in your suite, with you,” said Bill. “Don’t worry, it’s quite spacious, so you won’t be on top of each other. We’ll have some food sent up.”
“What do I get out of this?” Gene groused.
“Hopefully a good show tomorrow night,” said Sean.
And so the two of them had been herded into the fanciest double-level hotel room Ace could ever remember seeing and locked inside.
“Listen, you asshole, I’m not any happier about this than you are,” Gene had said immediately when they were alone. “At least there isn’t any trouble you can get in here, so we can just ignore each other until this hell is over.”
“Geez, Geno, ya don’t have to be so harsh,” Ace said. “So I fucked up one guitar solo. It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal,” Gene growled. “And I think Paul would agree with me. If you ever want a piece of that ass again, you’ll get your shit together.”
“Eh, Paul’s just moody.” Ace shrugged.
“That may be true,” said Gene, “But if I were you I wouldn’t underestimate his moodiness.”
Ace began to wander around the room, already bored. “This room got a balcony?”
“No,” said Gene. “And the windows don’t open, either. So no tossing furniture out of it or any of the other stupid ideas you might be coming up with.”
“Ya don’t have to be so mean,” Ace grumbled.
The downstairs of the suite contained a large antique desk, which had nothing on the surface of it. It had one large drawer in the center of it with a key sticking out of it. Ace pulled the drawer open. It was empty. He slammed it shut. Gene folded his arms over his chest.
“Quit it.”
“Just takin’ a look.” The living area contained several large, soft sofas, a television, a shelf full of books, and something else that caught Ace’s eye. “Ha!”
“A bar? A fucking bar? That thing better not be stocked!” Gene shoved Ace out of the way as he marched over to it. There was a full cabinet of liquor, Ace saw, his eyes widening. Like the desk drawer, there was a key in the lock of the cabinet.
“Look,” said Ace, following Gene over to it. “Let me just make one little cocktail an’ then we c’n leave each other alone for the rest of the night.”
“Absolutely not.” Gene locked the cabinet, took the key, and smirking at Ace, shoved it into his pants. “I’m going to get Bill and Sean right now and have them put that thing out of commission.”
Gene marched to the door of the suite and yanked on it, but it truly was locked. “Fuck. Well, I’ll call them.”
Ace leaned against the cabinet as Gene headed towards the phone. He thought about whether he could smash the cabinet open, or at least pick the lock. He did want a drink, and if he was honest with himself, he knew why. He could say that it was boredom, or rock and roll, or that he just didn’t give a fuck, but deep down, Ace knew he had a problem. So there was that… but there was also that part of him that just wanted Gene to fail at his task. To prove to all of them that NO ONE could tell Ace Frehley what to do. Even if what he wanted to do was questionable…maybe even stupid.
He could hear Gene on the phone, snapping at the hotel operator. “What do you mean no one is answering because they’re not in the room? Yes of course I understand what that means! But I need to speak to Mr. Aucoin… or Mr. Delaney… Or can you just have someone up to empty this liquor cabinet? Well, why not? That’s a stupid policy!”
Ace went over and sat down on the couch in front of the television, stroking his chin thoughtfully while Gene raged on the phone. The key to the cabinet was in Gene’s pants, so logically, all Ace had to do was get into them. How hard could that be? Ace arranged himself on the couch as provocatively as he could, trying to look inviting.
Gene slammed the phone down. He was so angry that he was panting, and for some reason Ace liked the thought of him so riled up. He whirled around and glared at Ace, staring at him furiously. Ace arched his back and shoved his hips up a little bit. He watched Gene’s expression soften, his posture shift. He sucked in a long, deep breath. Good. It was working.
“Geno, why dontcha come sit down. We can watch TV until they send up dinner.”
“Are you going to behave?” Gene asked suspiciously.
Ace nodded slowly, widening his eyes. “Promise.”
Gene flipped on the television, then went and settled himself heavily on the couch next to Ace. He sat a little closer than strictly necessary, Ace noticed with some satisfaction.
There was an old monster movie on. Gene leaned forward, grinning. “Have you seen this one, Ace?”
“Nope.”
“It’s fantastic. Watch. The monster’s going to come out of the water just there, and take hold of that girl. Now she’s gonna scream… but she wants it. I can tell. Look.”
Ace cackled. “You’re tellin’ me that babe wants to be grabbed by that slimy— Jesus, Geno!”
He shook his head. Gene chuckled, his laugh low and demonic. “She wants it,” he said.
“This a sci fi flick or a porno?”
Gene shook his head. “I don’t think I need to explain the difference. Anyway, it’s horror. He’s going to use her, and she’s going to die.”
“Not sure I like that,” Ace said, disconcerted.
Gene turned and looked at him slowly, arching an eyebrow. In the dim light of the room, it made him seem demonic. Which, Ace supposed, was appropriate. He opened his mouth slightly and took a deep breath.
“No? Are you scared?” Gene teased.
“Of a movie? Nah,” said Ace. He broke the connection and turned back to the screen, waiting. As soon as the actress met her doom, he shoved closer to Gene, putting his hand on the other man’s thigh in feigned distress.
Gene didn’t pull away.
As the movie went on, Ace pressed in. He rubbed Gene’s leg, snuggled against him. It was like trying to cuddle a rock. Gene didn’t shove him away, but he didn’t invite him in, either. It was a little bit frustrating. While trying to turn Gene on, Ace was getting a little worked up himself. Of course, he was only teasing. His goal was to get the key, not to sleep with the Demon.
When the movie finally ended, the credits rolling, Ace gave up on being subtle. He shifted and flopped back across Gene’s lap, looking up at his face. Gene stared down at him in amusement.
“Frehley, what are you doing?”
“Tryna get your attention.”
“Whatever for?” Gene asked, arching an eyebrow.
Ace squirmed on his lap, but there was still no sign that he was having any effect on Gene whatsoever. “I dunno, Geno, just for kicks.”
“You want to fuck me? Is that what you’re after?”
“Maybe.” Ace fluttered his eyelashes at Gene, who just smirked and shook his head. He gave Ace a rough shove, rolling him off of his lap, off of the couch, straight down onto the floor. Ace landed face down. “Oof.”
Ace dragged himself up onto his knees and glared up at Gene. He wasn’t the type to get frustrated, but he hated being this sober, and he hated when his shenanigans, ill-designed or not, didn’t pay off.
“While you’re down there…” said Gene in a teasing tone.
“What do ya think I’ve been offerin’ for the past two hours?”
“Were you? I didn’t notice. That was a great movie.” Gene smiled lasciviously and rubbed his crotch. “Well, go ahead, then.”
Ace put a hand on each of Gene’s knees as he positioned himself between his bandmate’s legs. A shiver of nerve ran through him. If he was drunk, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Sadly, he was stone cold sober, a little hungover, and suddenly shy. Gene unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.
“You gonna make me do all the work, Ace?”
“It’s bigger’n I thought it would be.” Ace cackled. He looked for the key to the liquor cabinet and didn’t see it. Maybe it was stuck under Gene’s balls.
“Ha ha. Shut up and wrap your lips around it.”
Ace wrapped his hand around Gene’s cock, stroking it into hardness. Gene closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch, his lips parted, groaning slightly. Ace slid his other hand under Gene’s balls, trying to find his prize. Where was the goddamn thing? His knuckles brushed the underside of Gene’s balls and the bass player’s breath hitched. Ace was going to have to find what he was looking for before–
“Fuck!”
With a moan, Gene erupted, shooting the hot evidence of his lust all over Ace’s face. The sticky fluid dripped down his cheeks and nose and Ace let go of Gene’s cock, taking one last desperate scramble inside of Gene’s pants. His fingers closed around the key and he almost crowed his delight. He dragged the back of his hand across his face.
“Thought you were going to suck it,” said Gene, panting slightly.
“Guess I didn’t need to,” said Ace, stuffing the key into his pocket. “Thanks for the facial, Geno. I better go wash up.”
Ace started to get to his feet, but Gene grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him back down. He stuck out his famously long tongue and licked Ace’s face. Ace squished his eyes closed as Gene took another stroke.
“I taste pretty fuckin’ good,” he commented, sounding amused. “Ace, you went out of your way to turn me on, and now you’re running away?”
“Well, ya already shot your load,” Ace pointed out as Gene licked his face again. His breath smelled vaguely of cinnamon. Ace noticed. It wasn’t unpleasant.
“What makes you think there’s only one bullet in the gun?” Gene growled, his voice making Ace’s ear vibrate.
He was still holding Ace’s wrist, a little too tightly. Ace tugged at his hand, and Gene let go, tilting his head as he looked at him. There was something about his expression that was a bit unnerving, Ace thought.
“I’m not lookin’ to get taken out,” Ace said in a saucy tone. Ace pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly. “Ya better holster that thing.”
Gene chuckled. “You want to watch another movie?” he asked softly. “Or would you like to play a game?”
Ace cackled. “I think we played around enough. I’m gonna go wash m’ face. Call me when the food gets here.”
He turned around and headed casually across the room before bolting up the stairs to the second floor of the suite. His heart was racing. Had he really gotten away with it?
Ace headed into the bathroom and grabbed a cloth and some soap, checking his hair to make sure Gene hadn’t left anything behind in it. He ran his fingers through it a few times, not bothering to investigate where his suitcase and a brush might be.
Slowly he washed his face, looking intently at his skin. He had a red scar that hadn’t quite faded around one eye from that car he’d crashed a couple of weeks ago. A few pockmarks from acne that had ravaged him as a teen. He hated the face looking back at him. Hated that he was sober enough to suffer a little bit of vanity right now…
Not for long, he told himself grimly. He dug around in his pocket and fished out his prize. The liquor cabinet key glittered in the palm of his hand, promising much needed relief and a big ol’ Fuck You to Gene Simmons and the rest of the god damn band.
Ace looked back up into the mirror, giving himself a wink. A second later, he saw Gene reflected in the glass behind him. Quickly Ace stuffed the key back into his pocket, but he knew it was too late.
“Think you’re clever?” Gene asked quietly.
“What are ya talkin’ about, Geno?”
Gene shoved against him from behind, sliding an arm around Ace’s chest, holding him firmly. He’d put his cock away but even through both of their pants Ace could feel it. He shoved his ass back against Gene’s crotch, grinding a little, hoping to distract him. Gene ran his hand down Ace’s chest. His fingers slipped under his t-shirt, slid back up the inside, brushed his nipple, Tweaked it a little too roughly.
“Ow!”
“You dumb fucker.”
Gene pulled his hand out of Ace’s shirt and shoved his hand into his pocket and extracted the key. He let go of Ace, shoving him a bit harshly against the sink. Ace turned around.
“Aw, c’mon Geno. Can ya blame me?”
“I can blame you for lots of things.” His eyes flashed. Gene held up the key, stuffed it into his mouth, and swallowed it.
“What the fuck!”
“You’re not getting in that cabinet.”
“I’ll just find something t’smash it with,” Ace said, lifting his chin defiantly.
“You’re really going to go through all that trouble to get a drink?”
“I don’t like being told what t’do!” Ace said angrily. He pretended he was angry at Gene and not himself. His addiction. The helpless feeling that was strangling him from inside.
Gene smiled coldly. “That’s too bad, Ace. Because tonight you have no choice. You’re going to do whatever I tell you…” Gene took a step forward, pressing up against Ace. He lifted a hand and stroked two fingers down Ace’s cheek. “…and I’m going to do whatever I want to you.”
Ace shivered. He wasn’t sure if this turned him on, or just pissed him off even further. Gene was only a couple of inches taller than Ace, but was bigger, probably stronger. The wicked look in Gene’s eyes was chilling.
“What do ya wanna do t’me?” Ace asked softly, hearing himself tease even though he didn’t exactly mean to.
“You got a little taste of me. Now I want a little taste of you.”
Gene kissed him.
Ace put up his hands, shoving against Gene’s chest, but Gene grabbed his upper arms and held him in place as his mouth descended on Ace’s. Ace gasped and Gene’s long tongue invaded his mouth, nearly choking him. If Ace had relaxed, it could have been a pretty good kiss. He was still trying to convince himself he didn’t want it when he gave up and let desire spiral through his body. He melted, his hands sliding down Gene’s chest. Ace groaned in the back of his throat. Let his eyes slip closed.
Gene let go. He chuckled. Dipped his head, putting his mouth right against Ace’s ear.
“What a little fucking whore you are, Ace. I know you love to slut it up with Paul and anyone else who spends five minutes of their time on you. I know you suck Peter off to get him to share his drugs, or clean up after you. You use that pretty face and sweet little lying mouth to get whatever you want, no matter what dirty job you have to put it to.”
“You think I’m pretty, Geno?” Ace blurted out. He cackled. Gene was still holding him by the arms and he shook him, not too hard, but enough to make Ace stop laughing.
Gene let go of him, but he didn’t step back. He looked into Ace’s eyes, shaking his head. “You know you have the face of a fallen angel.”
“Now you’re bein’ cruel. I’ve heard ya laughin’ when the crew says I shouldn’t ever take off th’ makeup.”
“They’re a bunch of assholes. So am I, I guess. But I do think you’re beautiful, and I do want to bend you over and fuck you senseless right now.”
Ace tried to mask his surprise. “Too bad ya ate the one thing you coulda given me that might make me agree to that.”
Before Gene could reply, they heard a loud knock at the door downstairs. Someone opened it, and a voice called out to them.
“Simmons! Frehley! Your food is here.”
Gene smirked. “It's Bill. Now I can get him to clean out the damn liquor cabinet.”
“Maybe I can convince him that I’d be safer bunkin’ with Paul,” Ace said in an accusatory tone.
“Maybe.”
Gene turned away and left the bedroom. Ace took a second to catch his breath and went after him.
“You need to empty out this bar,” Gene said, his voice irritated.
“Sure thing, Gene. Good idea. Where’s the key?”
Bill put out his hand. He was busily directing the hotel waitstaff to unload the plates and glasses they had brought. The food smelled good, Ace thought. Chicken? He liked chicken.
He thought about shoving past Bill, who was blocking the doorway, and making a run for it. But where would he go? He didn’t know the other guys’ room numbers, and they were probably still mad at him anyway.
“I swallowed it,” said Gene.
“You what?” Bill stared.
“I swallowed the key. To keep it away from Ace.”
Bill let out a short bark of a laugh, then shook his head.
“Guess we’ll have to leave it. Try to shit it out before we check out tomorrow so I don’t have to pay the hotel for that stunt.” Bill looked at Ace. “I like you, Frehley, but you’re a lot of trouble.”
“Ya need to let me outta here, Bill,” Ace whined. “Geno can’t keep his hands to himself.”
Ace wasn’t really afraid of what Gene might do to him, but tried to look pathetic. One big dinner and Gene would probably fall asleep, burping and farting, and Ace could pick the lock on the liquor cabinet.
Bill shook his head, then looked over at Gene. “Do whatever you want to him, as long as he’s sober and can still play guitar tomorrow,” he said, then he turned on his heel and left, the waiters following behind him.
“Dinner,” said Gene, striding over to the table. “Better eat up, Ace. You’re going to need your strength to get through the night.”
Ace shivered, not sure if it was with anticipation or nerves. He was hungry, he realized as he sat down across from Gene at the table where the food had been set up.
Glancing over at the desk on the other side of the room, Ace remembered that it had a drawer with a lock. In that lock was a key. The key to the liquor cabinet had been nothing fancy, and the desk matched it in color and design. Hmmm… if he could make it through dinner without giving that away, Ace had a good shot at seeing whether the key might be identical.
Ace wolfed down his dinner, barely noticing the taste. Gene ate with enthusiasm, but with not much more devotion to table manners. He was pointedly ignoring Ace, which suited him just fine.
Ace watched him dismantle the chicken with his fingers, the grease shining on them. Gene pulled it apart, then sucked the meat off of the bone. Ace caught a glimpse of his tongue and remembered that tongue in his own mouth.
“Ya need a napkin,” Ace said, amused.
Gene lifted his hand and licked the tip of his finger. “Or I could just use this to grease you up,” he said, wiggling his fingers at Ace. “You’re done eating? Why don’t you get up and strip for me, Ace?”
“Fuck you,” said Ace, cackling.
“Exactly,” said Gene. “Fuck me.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“We’ll see.” Gene lifted the lid from the tray that held their dessert. His eyes lit up. “Chocolate cake,” he said with delight. “Come sit on my lap and I’ll feed it to you.”
“I’ll pass,” said Ace, though part of him kind of wanted to. He watched Gene poking the cake into his mouth with those greasy fingers, letting the crumbs run down his chin. Gene groaned with pleasure. “It’s… it’s really that good, Geno?”
Gene smiled slowly. Nodded. Patted his lap. “Come find out.”
Ace got up almost against his own will and went around the table. Gene pushed his chair back and patted his lap. Ace draped himself over it, unable to stop himself from grinding his ass against Gene’s crotch. He felt the results immediately. Gene settled one arm around Ace’s waist, then picked up a bit of cake with his other hand.
“Open up.”
Ace opened his mouth and Gene pushed the cake inside, his fingers playing over Ace’s lips. The cake was good, moist and chocolatey, but it wasn’t half as good as this little game they were playing. Ace had to remind himself that it was another distraction technique, not something he really wanted to do.
Wasn’t it?
The second bite of cake came, and Ace licked at Gene’s fingers. He could taste the chicken grease mixed with the chocolate but it wasn’t as awful as he would have thought. He nipped the tip of Gene’s finger, not too hard. Gene groaned.
“I’m starting to regret that you didn’t give me that blow job,” Gene murmured, feeding Ace another bite. “Too bad you’re so untrustworthy.”
“That’s me,” said Ace with his mouthful. “An untrustworthy whore.”
“I shouldn’t have called you a whore,” Gene sighed, taking a bite of cake and holding it between his teeth. Ace bent his head to eat it out of Gene’s mouth.
“Why not?” Ace murmured against his lips. “That’s what I am.”
He kissed Gene, the cake flavoring the moment. Gene’s arms came around him, pulling Ace as closely against him as he could. There was almost tenderness between them, but there was too much heat for it to last. Gene devoured his lips with the same enthusiasm he had shown for the dessert until they were both panting with lust.
When the kiss broke, Gene pulled Ace’s shirt up and Ace let him tug it over his head. Gene’s hands caressed his back. He licked, then bit at one of Ace’s nipples. A jolt of electricity shot through him. They were rarely very sensitive but Gene was doing something to him he’d never felt before. Ace wasn’t sure how, but it was good, so damn good.
“Come to bed with me,” Gene demanded.
He stood up and Ace had to hold on to him to avoid falling on the floor. He clung on. Put his arms around Gene. Kissed him again. Ace wanted to say yes. He wanted to forget about the desk drawer key and the liquor cabinet and go upstairs to let Gene pound him into the mattress.
His addiction won.
“No,” he said.
“What?”
Ace let go of Gene and took two stumbling steps backwards. “No, Geno. M’not gonna go to bed with you.”
Gene stared at him, blinking. He turned and walked away without a word, climbing the stairs to the second floor.
There was no time to think about this. The minute Gene left, Ace went to the desk. He slid the key to the drawer out of the lock and looked at it. As he’d suspected, it was a match for the one Gene had swallowed.
Ace crept over to the liquor cabinet and unlocked it. It opened easily, revealing a dozen delights. Good. He was going to need something strong to wash away the thoughts in his head and the feelings in his heart. He closed the cabinet. He’d wait until he was sure Gene was asleep. Meanwhile, he needed to get rid of the evidence of his crime. Time to put the key back.
Ace slipped around the desk, looking down at the drawer a little bit guiltily. Gene was surely going to be in trouble with Bill and Sean… not to mention Paul… for failing at his task. Ace would get wrecked and probably fuck up the show tomorrow, and then everyone would be mad at him.
Especially Gene.
Sighing, Ace went back and locked the cabinet. It wouldn’t be easy to get through the night knowing that he could get a drink the minute Gene fell asleep, but maybe he ought to try.
Maybe he could tell Gene he’d changed his mind, and let the Demon take him to bed.
Ace went back to the desk and slid the key back into the lock of the drawer. There, no harm, no foul. Now all he had to do was go see if Gene was still up for some playtime.
A hand settled on the back of Ace’s neck, sending a chill down his spine.
“You little fucker.”
Gene shoved Ace’s face towards the desk. Ace got his hands there just in time to protect his face from being mashed into the wood.
“Wait, Geno, I can explain—“
“There’s nothing to explain!” Gene growled. He reached down and yanked the key out of the drawer and tossed it onto the desk in front of Ace. “I bet you were going to try this in the cabinet.”
“Well—”
“Shut up!” Gene shoved his face down again, squeezing the back of his neck.
“Ow! Please, Geno!”
Gene unbuckled Ace’s belt and slid it out of the belt loops. He unzipped Ace’s pants, shoving them down to his ankles, leaving Ace naked, his feet trapped in his own tangled clothes. Gene rubbed the belt against his ass. His other hand still held Ace down on the desk by his throat.
“I should whip the hell out of you.”
Ace choked back a sob. “Please,” he begged. “Please not the belt.”
Gene stilled for a second, then Ace heard the belt clatter to the floor. Gene’s big hand settled over one naked ass cheek and squeezed. Ace gasped. Gene began to rub the exposed flesh. Ace was both terrified and turned on. He gasped for breath as Gene pulled his hand back and smacked Ace’s ass.
“Don’t–” Ace gasped but he let slip a moan as Gene repeated the gesture.
“I should stop because you like it,” Gene threatened. Smack! Smack! Smack! Ace’s ass was on fire, but his cock was hard as hell.
“Lemme up, Geno,” he whined.
“You’re already up.” Gene’s finger slid between his cheeks, tapping at the back door. “Relax.”
“No! Gene, stop, not like this,” Ace cried desperately as he felt Gene’s finger sink into his heat.
“Just like this,” Gene growled.
He leaned against Ace, pinning him even more firmly to the desk. His finger sunk in deeper, curled. A second finger joined it, opening him further. Ace wondered vaguely if Gene had used lube or if it was still just the chicken grease. Gene’s fingers twitched and hit just the right spot. Ace nearly blacked out as he came, hot and wet all over the edge of the desk and his own thighs.
Ace no longer knew if he wanted this or not when Gene’s fingers withdrew and were replaced by the thick length of his cock. He was spread, impaled, imprisoned. Gene’s hands slid up Ace’s arms, holding his wrists as he ground into him from behind. Ace was trapped, bent over on top of the desk.
Gene moved slowly at first, growling and panting into Ace’s ear, but he picked up a rhythm fairly quickly, his hips slamming against Ace’s ass as he rode him. He wasn’t trying to last, and there was anger in the near violent way Gene was taking him, but of course, he deserved it, didn’t he? It felt good, and Ace was already getting hard again, but his face was also wet. Tears streaked his cheeks. This was what he deserved, a raw hate-fuck on a hotel desk for behaving like an utter asshole.
Gene came with a bellow, and Ace sobbed in earnest against the desk. Gene stopped moving, still holding Ace down, his breath ragged in Ace’s ear. His body was heavy, hot. Ace was still pinned. Trapped.
“M’sorry, Geno,” he whispered against the desk.
“Are you?”
Slowly, Gene withdrew. He slid out of Ace’s body and stepped back. Ace shivered, cold with the loss of Gene’s heat. He didn’t try to stand up. He didn’t want Gene to see that he was crying, though of course he knew. He had to know.
Ace could hear the fabric of Gene’s shirt rasping as he tucked it in, heard him zip his pants. He walked around the desk and picked up the key.
“Go upstairs, Ace. Get in the bed.”
“Why?”
“Because we’ll be sleeping together tonight. You can’t be trusted down here alone.”
Ace slowly raised himself off of the desk, his body aching and throbbing, his cock still half-hard. He was miserable and horny all at once. He wanted to kill Gene, but not as much as he wanted Gene to fuck him again.
“Ya gonna swallow that key, too?” he asked bitterly, swaying on his feet. Instead of putting his pants back on, he kicked them off.
“I’m gonna flush it down the toilet. Up the stairs. Now.”
Gene pointed and Ace gingerly began to walk towards the stairs. His ass was still stinging from the spanking as much as he was sore deep inside. He heard Gene sigh. Ace wondered why. He made it up to the bedroom and fell face down on the bed like a log. He heard Gene go into the bathroom, the toilet flush. When he came out a minute later, he sat on the bed next to Ace. Ace stiffened for a moment, but then he felt a cool hand rubbing something over his burning cheek. It turned the pain into something approaching pleasure.
“What’re ya doin’?”
“Just some lotion. I was a bit rough on you.”
“Feels nice,” Ace sighed. He was suddenly overcome with exhaustion.
“Did someone hit you with a belt, Ace?” Gene asked quietly.
“Yup.”
“Who?” He sounded dangerous.
“Aw, you know, Geno, kids get in trouble,” Ace mumbled into the pillow. “No one’s hit me in years. I’m a fuckin’ rockstar now.” He cackled, then hiccupped, then sobbed slightly.
“Why are you so much trouble?” Gene sighed. He stopped rubbing. Ace’s ass felt a lot better. He felt Gene’s weight lift off of the bed, then turned his head to watch as Gene undressed and slid into the bed. “Get under the covers. I don’t want you to get cold.”
Ace rolled over enough to get beneath the blanket. He was surprised when Gene pulled him close, spooning from behind. “Just holding me down so I don’t escape?”
“Mmm.”
“What if… uh…”
“What if what, Ace?”
“What if I wanted ya to fuck me again? Just maybe… maybe a little less rough?” Ace shoved his ass back against Gene. Flexed his hips. Gene’s cock was already answering his question in the affirmative.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Gene whispered, his knee sliding between Ace’s legs. He kissed Ace’s shoulder, licked his neck.
“I deserved it.”
“No, you didn’t. You really want to go again?”
More kisses. Ace began to tremble as Gene’s hands roamed over his chest, his ribs, his belly.
“Yeah…” Ace began to gasp for breath. Gene’s touch was gentle, but possessive. “I’ll try to be better… I’ll try to… to stop…”
“Don’t make any promises right now.”
“I need help, Gene,” Ace admitted.
“I’ll help you,” Gene said firmly. “And right now, I’m going to show you how you deserve to be touched.”
Ace felt his heart soar as he abandoned himself to the tender pleasures of the Demon. Maybe there was something better than alcohol after all.