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Jeez, this kid has a weird taste in music, Stan thought. He was kinda regretting catching a ride with this stranger. But he needed it, so he couldn’t complain.
The Stanleymobile had broken down out of gas just outside of Nashville. Stan was going there to win big money. He knew the city was nine miles away. He tried to wave down a car, but no one stopped. He didn’t think anyone would anyways. He was dressed in dirty jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. His beard was scraggly and his hair was far from maintained. He sat there in the car for a good hour, trying to reach the decision of whether to walk nine miles and back with a gas can or not. As he was getting out of the car to take the eighteen-mile trip, he saw a red Pontiac pulling up behind his car. It seemed that the car appeared out of the horizon as the sun was now setting. He saw a strange man step out of the car.
“Y-you need a lift?” the stranger’s voice was rugged. Stan thought that this was the weirdest looking person he had ever seen. The man was very tall. His lanky and thin structure fit him well. He had a nice, tan skin tone. His arms and legs looked like long, thin pythons coming out of his body. He looked to be in his mid or lower twenties, just a couple years older than Stan. His most distinguishable feature was his brown hair, spiking out at all kinds of different angles everywhere. It looked like it had a shit-ton of gel in it, but at a closer inspection, Stan saw no residue or anything. His hair seemed naturally wild, like a lion’s mane. Wrapped around his neck was a black choker with a silver ring in the middle of it. He had a tight black tank top on. It clung to his body like a bathing suit right after a swim. The white print on it said ‘The Clash’, whatever the hell that was. His black skinny jeans were ripped all over the place, exposing the skin on his legs that Stan could easily wrap one hand around.
“My n-name’s Rick S-Sanchez.” He reached his hand out and Stan took it. Rick’s fingernails were painted black and when his long, cool fingers brushed against Stan’s, a chill worked its way through Stan’s body. Rick was close enough for Stan to smell the booze on his breath. It was sweet. Stan looked at Rick’s eyes. They were a deep, dark brown, like coffee with barely any creamer in it. They were almost…hypnotizing.
“Um…Stan Pines. And yea. I could use a ride. My car ran out of gas.”
“Alright. I’ll g-give you a ride. Buh-but you have to make me a pruh-pruh…make me a-urp-promise.”
“Umm… okay.”
Rick got right up in Stan’s face. They were inhaling what the other was exhaling.
“Y-you gotta come with me to a cl-club. There’s this badass band pl-playing there tonight. C-come with me and I can get you a ride and some cash.”
Stan’s heart jumped at the word cash. But Rick was still too close for comfort. Stan licked his lips out of nervousness. Rick’s eyes darted down to Stan’s lips and a look of hunger danced in his eyes for just a second.
“All right. I promise.”
They pulled up to the club. It was about 9 o’clock now. Lights were flashing all over the place in the building. Stan could hear the music from outside. It was not something he was into. The vowels were held out for too long. He couldn’t make out any of the lyrics. God, he hated punk.
They walked in together. Stan noticed Rick was staring at him the whole time. A smirk was plastered over his face. He grabbed Stan’s hand and pulled him onto the dancefloor.
“Come on. Let’s d-dance.”
“Can we just sit at the bar for a little bit? I need a beer.” Stan was tired and he didn’t really feel like dancing. He needed some booze to give him some energy.
“A-alright, pussy. But you have to tell me about your life and your past. I fuh-fuh…I feel like it’s dark.”
They took two open seats at the bar.
“T-two glasses of whiskey.” Stan had wanted beer because it was the least expensive, but he preferred whiskey and was glad the man before him was paying for it. It kept the demons at bay and made him forget things faster. The bartender set the glasses down and before Rick could even get his to his mouth, Stan had gulped his down. The bartender gave him an odd look.
“Just k-keep ‘em coming.” The bartender set down another glass and Stan just sipped at it, the fire still burning his throat from the first one. He could feel the fuzzy static working through his body.
“S-so what’s y-your story?” Rick took the last sip from his glass and started on another. He felt like getting drunk tonight. Hell, he felt like getting drunk all the time.
“Ehh. Same thing you’ll hear from most people. Dropped out of high school. Got kicked out of my home. Though, it hadn’t been home for a long time. Been drifting state to state since. Chronic and skilled kleptomaniac. Had a brother. Twins. We had a…unique relationship. Me and my brother.” Stan put his head down and took a gulp from his glass, trying not to remember his brother. When was the last time he had thought about him? Thought about their past together?
“Unique r-relationship? What the-urp-hell does that mean? Did you fuck or something?” Rick laughed at his last question. Stan shot him a look that said ‘shut the fuck up’.
“Oh. Damn. That’s pretty fuh-fuh…pretty fucked up man. It’s alright. I’ve seen and done way worse than that.” Rick gave Stan a wink.
“So you don’t have a problem with the fact that me and my twin brother… did things?” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. He was starting to like this man.
“Fuh-fuck no. Who the fuck cares, m-man?” Rick gave him another wink and finished off his second glass of whiskey. Stan was halfway through his third and he was actually enjoying himself. The music was loud and he didn’t like it. Remembering his brother was painful. But somehow this strange man before him had made him happy.
“Alright. We’re dancing n-now.” Rick grabbed Stan’s hand and dragged him onto the dancefloor.
They got right into the middle of everyone. Bodies brushed up against them, but Stan was focused on Rick’s hand in his. They started dancing to the music, Rick pumping his fist in the air and Stan just kinda swaying to the beat. He wasn’t really enjoying the music, but he was enjoying being with Rick. He saw sweat starting to drip down Rick’s arms and forehead. The sight made Stan’s mouth start to water. He hoped to God that he was not catching feelings for this man. The tempo of the music slowed down. The band started playing a mellow song that was halfway decent.
“God. I love th-this song.” Rick moved closer to Stan. They swayed together, their bodies touching periodically.
“I forgot to tell you th-that you are one of the sexiest creatures I have ever seen.” Rick’s eyes narrowed as he closed the distance between him and Stan. Stan gulped, noticing how Rick’s long, thick hair was slick with sweat.
Rick turned around suddenly to where his back was facing Stan. His ass brushed against Stan’s crotch occasionally. Stan felt heat rush to his face, and then to his pelvic area. He could feel his erection growing with every touch from Rick. He couldn’t move. The touch made him paralyzed.
“Come on, k-kid. Work-urp-work with me h-here.” And with that, Rick grabbed Stan’s hand and put them on his waist, while their bodies crashed together. Rick was grinding desperately on Stan’s still-hardening cock. Stan didn’t know what to think, so he just nuzzled his face into Rick’s neck. His smell and the sweat coming off of his body gave Stan a full on boner. Stan moved his lips slightly against Rick’s neck, making the older man moan a little.
The sound jerked Stan out of his stupor. What the hell were they doing? They were in the middle of a fucking club. Stan hadn’t been with a guy since… Ford. And he promised himself he wouldn’t be with a guy ever again. But, God… Rick looked so fucking hot with that smirk dominating his face and sweat glistening off of his hair.
No. He had to get out of there. He started to turn around, but Rick put a hand on his shoulder.
“Whatsa matter, baby? Can’t…can’t handle a little fun?” At the last word, he jerked him and Stan together. Stan pushed away.
“I don’t-”
“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t like it. You fucking o-obviously do.” He pointed to the bulge in Stan’s jeans.
“Afraid of an ad-adventure?” He groped Stan’s jeans. Stan gasped and bit his lip. It felt good. But it couldn’t. Stan took off running and went outside. Rick yelled after him, but decided to stay in the club and have fun. Until he saw four jock-like guys walking outside in the direction Stan went.
Stan went around the side of the building into an alley. What the hell was he doing? He had known this guy for all of three hours. He couldn’t have feelings for him. He just couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself to. He wasn’t gay. But all those things he’d done with his brother. Those restless nights with Ford. How could he do that with anyone else?
But he wanted to. God, he wanted Rick so bad. And it wouldn’t just be some fling. He actually felt something for this man. Rick had helped him. Rick had not given a single shit when he had found out about what him and his brother had done.
It was cool outside. Stan wanted him and Rick to go to a motel or something. He had made up his mind about this man. Whatever happens happens. If they fucked, they fucked. If they hung out this night and parted ways forever in the morning, though Stan hoped to God that would not be the way it happened, then so be it. He was tired of worrying about his past and consequences. Carpe diem, right?
Stan started to walk out of the alley to go back and get Rick, but he was shoved into the brick side of the building by a man. There were three others behind him. Stan started to rub his back and ease the pain away, but he was met with a punch to the stomach in the dark.
“Fuck. What the hell is your problem, man?”
“What the fuck is your problem faggot? Acting like you can bring your queer shit into my club? I don’t fucking think so.” He punched Stan in the stomach again. Stan expected it and wasn’t disturbed by the pain. He squared off to the man.
“Stop being such a fucking homophobe.” He had learned that word from his brother. “Just get the fuck outta here before I beat the shit out of you and your three goons. Bet y’all suck each other off, right?” Stan smirked and was returned with a punch to the mouth. He could taste the blood filling up in his mouth. He just couldn’t back down, could he?
“You’re gonna get it now, you little faggot.” The three guys behind him moved closer to Stan. They had a murderous look in their eyes. Stan had gotten beat up before, many times, but he was afraid that this time he might have to go to the hospital for something serious.
“G-get the fuck away from him.” All five of them turned their heads. To the four guys, it was just another faggot they would beat up, but to Stan, it was his savior. Rick was holding a weird looking gun type thing up to the leader of the group.
“Don’t fucking th-think I won’t fucking di-dis…fucking disintegrate you.” He moved closer to the man with such confidence that even Stan felt intimidated.
“Get your little gay ass and your fucking toy gun out of here before we beat the shit out of you too.” Rick took a step forward towards the guy, teasing him.
“So you…you-you…. you think this thing here in my hand is a fucking toy?” He twirled the gun thing around his hand, a smirk creeping its way across his face. The wind blew his hair to where it was barely over the top of his eyes. Stan was so hard it was hurting right now.
“Tell me. Ca-can toys do this?” He pointed the gun at a nearby trash can and shot it. It immediately disappeared leaving only a small pile of black ash in its place.
The four guys stared with horror at Rick who was blowing away the smoke from his gun with one hand on his hip, looking like a class A badass.
“You have until the count of th-th-three to get the fuck out of here. Or else your fate will be the same of a trash can, which is pr-probably worth more than you sickos. And heads up, I sometimes ‘forget’ the number two.”
“One.” But before he could get to two or maybe ‘forget’ about it, the four guys were gone. They ran away like pigs after hearing a gunshot.
He went over to Stan and put a hand on his jaw. Stan winced at Rick’s immediate touch, but he was firm and gentle. Comforting.
“Well, your jaw’s not broken. But it’s gonna…it’s gonna hurt like hell for a couple days.” Stan looked at Rick in awe. This man before him. What was going at? Is love at first sight real, Stan thought. They walked to the car. Stan was hunched over walking, holding his side where he got punched multiple times. Stan got in wincing at the pain darting around in his side.
“Ya’ know. I could’ve handled that.” Stan smiled jokingly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Oh, sh-shut the fuck up. You’re welcome by the-urp-way.” Rick started the car and they drove to a motel.
As soon as they got into the motel room, which was nice considering it was a motel and it only had one bed, Stan flopped onto the bed. The lighting was dim, but they didn’t mind at all. Darkness was what the both of them needed right now.
Rick sat on the bed, beside Stan. He started rubbing Stan’s back. Stan let out groans of pleasure. Rick worked his long fingers under Stan’s shirt and lifted it up a little bit. He shivered as Rick’s cool fingers traced over the scars on his back. Rick went to pull Stan’s shirt over his head, but Stan turned over. Rick was now straddling him. Stan’s shirt was pulled up slightly, exposing his happy trail and toned abdomen.
Distress shadowed Stan’s face. “What are we doing? We barely know each other. I’m trying to just let this happen. But do you really want this?”
Rick leaned closer, right into Stan’s face, placing one hand on his chest and the other on his aching erection.
“I think… I think the question us do-do… do you want this?” Rick’s eyes narrowed, tempting Stan to do something.
Stan grabbed Rick by his hair pulling their mouths together in a sloppy kiss. Rick tasted of whiskey and Stan craved for more, shoving his tongue into Rick’s mouth.
“That’s…what I…thought,” Rick said between kisses.
Rick kicked off his black boots and Stan did the same with his Converse in earnest. Rick unbuckled Stan’s belt and slid off his jeans, their tongues never losing contact. He started palming Stan’s erection. Stan threw his head back, moaning from the pleasure, and blindly grabbed at Rick’s shirt and pulling it over his head.
Stan flipped Rick over on his back with one quick move and started kissing down his stomach. He sat up, straddling Rick, and put one hand over his shoulder and pulled his shirt off. Rick marveled at the definition of Stan’s chest, running his fingers over the lines in Stan’s skin.
Stan had difficulty getting Rick’s skinny jeans off his long, thin legs. He ended up getting frustrated and jerked them off, nearly ripping them in half.
“Jeez, Stan. Don’t rip my fucking jeans.”
“They’re already ripped, dumbass.” Stan took off rick’s boxers. What’s with this guy and boxers, Stan thought.
Stan grasped Rick’s cock and started moving his hand up and down. He increased his pace, while kissing and biting Rick’s neck, making the genius moan. He started sucking and Rick spasmed a little bit.
“Fuck… Gahh….. Ngh….. God that feels guhh …..that feels good. Take your fuhh …fucking box-boxers off and just fuh-fuh ….just fuck me already.” Rick moved Stan’s face away from his neck and onto his lips. He took Stan’s boxers off while their lips moved in messy unity and started rubbing their cocks together. The friction was building fire in both of them.
“Jesus …ahh… do you… do you have any lube?” Rick looked at Stan smugly.
“In the b-back pocket of my jeans.”
Stan looked at Rick suspiciously. “Were you expecting to get lucky or something tonight?”
“Who… who… who wouldn’t want to fuck this?” Rick motioned at his body up and down with is hands, stopping at his cock that was begging Stan for a little touch. Stan got the lube out of Rick’s pocket, still thinking about how Rick confidently though that he’d get laid tonight.
He hiked Rick up onto his knees and squirted some of the gel onto his hands. Stan eased two fingers into Rick’s entrance, earning a sensual moan from the older man. He pumped in and out, occasionally teasing Rick by scarping against his prostate. Stan put in a third finger, but Rick was getting irritated by how slow things were going.
“Stop with the fuh-fucking foreplay….and ….and slam your c-cock inside me already.” Animal instincts took over Stan’s mind when he heard Rick say that.
He flipped Rick over on his back, so he could see the look in Rick’s eyes as he took him. He put a considerable amount of lube on his impressive member. He grabbed Rick’s skinny legs and put them on his shoulders, the sweat already building up. He lined himself up at Rick’s entrance and looked up at Rick. He was smirking like an idiot, once again.
“Do-do you want permission or something?”
Stan growled and pushed inside Rick, not waiting to ease him into it, but just automatically pumping hard and fast.
“Jesus… fuhhh…” All Rick could do was moan and make guttural noises. He began to stroke himself, adapting to Stan’s quick and sporadic rhythm.
Stan was sweating bullets as he drew and withdrew from Rick, hitting his prostate with almost record accuracy. He had no idea how he could remember how to do that since it had been so long since Ford. He began to slow down, needing to take a breath.
“I’m about to-to cum. Don’t you d-dare fucking stop.”
Stan felt like a god as he built up his pace again. He felt his climax, spreading outwards from his core. He could feel it in his fingertips as they gripped Rick’s sides. He swiped the sweat away from his forehead.
Stan pulled out of Rick and shot cum all over Rick’s stomach. The sounds he made as he released his cum sent Rick over the edge and he did the same. Stan collapsed beside Rick, one arm swung over Rick’s stomach, in a sweaty, heavy-breathing mess.
Rick leaned over and pushed the dark, sweaty hair off of Stan’s face.
“Was I better than your bruh-brother?” He licked some sweat off of Stan’s neck.
Stan smiled. “Don’t even fucking go there.” They laughed and fell asleep shortly after, basking in the short-lived glory they created together.