by Jack Parker
"How did those friends of Sheridan know where he was hiding out, exactly?"
"Anyone's guess," Kurt grunted. "But I dearly hope it wasn't his great stupid mouth. Help me gather up some supplies."
Emery zipped up his pants and found his sweater, throwing it on before heading for the door. Kurt stopped him before he reached it, gently tugging at his wrist. "Emery, can you fire a gun?"
Emery blinked. "I know how. Not a very good shot, I'm afraid."
Kurt nodded. "We'll have to change that."
"Are we planning on warfare or something?" Emery asked half seriously. "Who am I going to have to shoot?"
"I don't know, but in the eventuality that I can't be there to protect you, I'll need you do to it for me."
Emery felt in over his head for a moment. Being a cooperative victim was one thing, but being an active participant in a shootout? He looked into Kurt's eyes and found a stalwart determination there. Then he realized how in over his head he truly was because his next thought was that it really didn't matter; when he remembered the feeling of Kurt in danger and himself helpless to do anything about it, he really might have killed anybody. "I…" Emery stopped, his throat dry.
Kurt set a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not trying to worry you. I just want you to be prepared for anything."
Emery cleared his throat and nodded, stamping down the fluttering of his heart. "Yes. Right. I'll learn."
"Good," Kurt caressed his neck with a hand before stepping around him out the door. "You can start by turning your shirt right side out."
Emery quickly looked down at the tag in front of his face, grinning and rubbing his cheek before fixing it and scurrying out after him.
CHAPTER 14
"Sorry about this, kid," Sheridan said as he held up his hands to Emery in a placating gesture. "It's nothing personal. Just a precaution."
Emery didn't offer any complaint as he let Kurt cuff his hands securely behind his back. "That's alright."
Kurt had to admit he wasn't entirely sure why Sheridan wanted him restrained during transport. Perhaps now that he realized how close things had come to going to the dogs he was overly paranoid. Kurt had to very much doubt Emery's desire to escape.
"Should we gag and blindfold him too?" Scott commented sarcastically, swiping a hand over Emery's head as he walked by with a heavy bag slung over one shoulder. "We're loaded up. Everything's scrubbed."
"Perfect, let's get the fuck outta this icebox," Sheridan muttered, gesturing to Sterling at the back.
"Amen," said Scott.
Kurt took Emery by the arm and led him out to a van, followed by the others who all filed in. It felt like a much longer car ride than it really was. It was perhaps twenty minutes, but it was punctuated every other moment by Scott's hoarse coughs and the ensuing barrage of commentary each attack elicited from his crew, unfairly condemning him for spreading illness. Clearly he wasn't exaggerating how he felt, however, as his usual fighting spirit fell almost completely to the wayside in favor of a listless middle finger.
Kurt was staring ahead when he felt Emery's foot step on top of his. He didn't make any other indication that he so much as noticed Kurt next to him, but it was an obvious sign of affection that made Kurt's insides feel peculiarly warm. Emery loved to torture him with these discrete gestures. Before he would have been certain it was a cue that he wanted sex, but that morning had seemed to make all the difference. Emery had been so genuinely rattled by the incident, worried about Kurt's safety of all things. Not the potential danger to himself or the fact that he'd be sent back to live with Hunter if things had gone awry, but the life of some lawless brute.
The new location, chosen by Sheridan this time, was a quaint, two-story country house with a small farm plot on some village's isolated outskirts. Kurt wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. True, it was more remote than their last den, but there was also no sense of anonymity about it being that it was the only structure for a two or three kilometer radius. It obviously afforded more living space being a residence, but it was virtually unfortifiable. Parts of the exterior were dilapidated and the paint had all but been entirely shorn away by weather. Kurt tried to get a good visual on the roof as he stepped out of the car but didn't see any missing shingles in the fading evening light.
Scott slid out after him and stood by his side as they gazed up at the house. "You really went all out this time, didn't you?" Scott asked Sheridan with an unimpressed glare.
"Hey, the Holiday Inn was all booked up," was Sheridan's reply.
Scott narrowed his eyes. "It's abandoned, right?"
Sheridan turned from the van as he pulled out a bag. "Yeah, why?"
"Because there's a car here," Scott pointed up towards the slight incline where, surely enough, a rusted car sat blending in with a broken fence.
Sheridan paused, looking up at it. "Shit, I don't know. Looks like it's been there for years. It's probably nothing." He pulled out his gun, setting the bag back down and sighing. "Alright, let's go have a look to be sure."
Kurt went to the other side of the van and opened the door to pull Emery out. As he stepped down out of the vehicle and followed after the others, Kurt stayed close with sinister contemplation. He then reached out and firmly grasped Emery's rear end.
Emery yelped, jumping and shooting Kurt a quick look of heated astonishment.
The others looked to Emery with questioning expressions and the young man immediately turned red. "I uh…" he stammered. "Just a leg cramp."
"Walk it off, E," Sheridan muttered before turning back around.
As the five of them wandered into the house, Kurt could see that no one had lived here in a while. Cobwebs plastered every corner and the windows were stained with grime. It was in much worse shape than their last hideout, but its utilities seemed to be in order. Sheridan led the way, glancing cautiously around the entryway and the long hallway off to the right. He walked down into it before turning to back to his crew. Before he could say anything, some faint rustling sounded from upstairs.
"Fuck was that?" Scott asked, looking up. They waited, but could hear nothing else.
Sheridan pursed his lips, holding up his gun and motioning it at Kurt. "Kurt, bring the kid over here. We can't have anyone laying eyes on him. Stay down here and keep quiet while we check it out."
Kurt took Emery and pulled him down the hall into a small half bathroom, pushing him against the sink to step in behind him and close the door. He reached around him and pulled the hanging chain above the mirror in front of them to flood the room with a dull, yellow light. "Is this really necessary?" Emery asked when they could hear footsteps move away.
"Let him have his paranoia," Kurt said, scanning the ceiling. "I'd rather it be that than his usual carelessness."
Emery twisted slightly over a shoulder against his bindings to try and look at Kurt's face. "Speaking of carelessness, what in the hell were you thinking back there grabbing me like that?"
It sounded annoyed, but there was a real pulse of arousal underneath. Kurt considered this for a moment and reached up to forcibly turn Emery's head back towards the mirror where he met his eyes. "Perhaps I was just thinking of your pert little backside in my lap."
Emery turned another delightful shade of red and held Kurt's gaze, pushing back against him slightly and gripping the bottom of his shirt with his cuffed hands between them. Kurt responded by nipping the skin behind his jaw and running long, wet kisses down his neck. If this wasn't the sloppiest they'd been he'd be shocked, but he was less and less able to control himself these days. Nothing solved it—no amount of this torrid affair seemed to satiate his appetite. When he wasn't touching Emery it was all he wanted to be doing, an ever present ghost haunting his every thought and turning him from an intellectual, detached professional into a brainless sex-crazed animal. Right about then he should probably have been doing as Sheridan asked and standing guard, but what he was really going to do was jerk Emery off while he was utterly helpless to do anything about it b
ut watch.
Emery clearly enjoyed the lavishing of attention. He tilted his head to one side to allow better access and took in a fast breath when Kurt's hand pawed between his legs. "What shall I do with you?" he purred into Emery's ear while staring at him in the mirror. "How do I keep that snarky mouth of yours in check?"
"I can think of a way," Emery said.
"Like this, you mean?" Kurt delved his hand into Emery's pants and groped him fervently, making him squirm and clutch his fingers tighter at the material of Kurt's clothing. He undid Emery's pants and pulled him out to get a better hold, stroking slowly as he bit into his neck. "Is that better?"
Emery didn't answer, head bowed as he stared back at Kurt in the mirror with parted lips and penetrative blue eyes that promised retribution. Then those eyes shut and he gritted his teeth, quivering in pleasure. This was definitely the right angle to play, Kurt decided, stroking faster and nuzzling behind Emery's ear. "Look at yourself. So sehe ich Dich gerne…Du bist sehr schön."
"Ah," Emery grunted, fingers now scrabbling awkwardly behind him at Kurt's waistband but unable to find purchase. "Fuck…"
"Is that what you like?" Kurt continued to tease in a throaty whisper. "When I fuck you? That's what I like. You're the best bloody lay I've ever had, you know. No one's ever gotten me so worked up. No one's ever been able to make me lose focus. No one's ever dared to just take me without asking the way you do. Well I'm yours now. You've got me hooked. Do you like that?"
"God, yes," Emery heaved. "Wanted you from the start, every bit of you…even…oh…even back when you were terrifying…"
Kurt chuckled. "I'm not terrifying anymore?"
"No, you're perfect," Emery moaned. "Don't stop…"
"I won't stop. Nein. Du hast immer noch nicht genug, was?"
That was clearly having the intended effect. Emery's head fell forward again, his legs buckling and his arms tensing up against Kurt's stomach. "Yes, yes, please…"
He hadn't really expected Emery to be quite so receptive to this scenario, but he was happy to oblige. It was good to know his weak points…to know how to really make him fall all to pieces. He forced Emery's head back up and to the side with his free hand so that he could drag his lips up his throat. "Du machst mich verrückt…"
Emery came with a startled gasp, turning his head away and clamping down on what sounded like it had the potential to be a glass-shattering cry. Kurt watched in the mirror as Emery became a shaking wreck, fighting the urge to bend him over the sink and fuck him just like that. Instead he rubbed his other hand over Emery's chest and held him upright throughout the waves. When his spasms at last came to a full stop, he sagged forward, panting roughly and wriggling in discomfort. "Take them off. Please—now," he begged with real urgency.
Alarmed, Kurt immediately did as he was told and unlocked Emery's handcuffs, but as soon as his hands were free he turned around and grabbed Kurt's face to kiss him ardently. Kurt wrapped his arms around Emery's waist and responded in kind. Emery quickly made up for being unable to use his hands before, kneading them into Kurt's chest and dragging them down to slide under his shirt and touch his naked sides. Kurt felt feverish, breaking off the kiss for a moment to breathe and the next thing he knew Emery dropped to his knees, hands making quick work of his belt and unzipping his pants. "Wait, don't…" Kurt tried. Somehow a shred of sense wound its way back into his head to alert him that they could be caught at any moment.
"Kurt," Emery panted, looking up at him with a desperate plea. "Please. You don't know how long I've wanted this. I was just afraid my sodding mouth would bleed, but I can't take it anymore—don't deny me this."
Kurt found he suddenly couldn't speak. The image of Emery on his knees literally begging for it was enough to kick sense none too kindly back to the curb. Emery didn't bother to wait for permission anyway as he continued to free Kurt's bound erection, swallowing him down in one go and making him stagger back against the door behind him with a soft thump. Damn. He hadn't seen this coming. That was his last real thought before they all dissolved into the incredible heat of Emery's mouth.
"Oh, Emery…" He reached down and stroked Emery's hair with both hands, head leaned back against the door and biting a lip to keep from losing his tenuous self-control. Emery knew exactly what he was doing. Where to roll his tongue, where to use his hands, where to graze his teeth and just how much pressure to use in order to make it an absolutely life changing ordeal. Kurt knew he wouldn't last long, but that was probably for the best.
Perhaps Emery could sense that in his tone, however, because he shortly began to alternate speeds, perfectly tormenting Kurt to the edge and then easing him back down until he thought he might actually break down and beg. He held firm, though, and as Emery worked him to a peak for the third time, Kurt was helpless to withstand.
"I'm there, love, I'm there…" he managed.
Emery courteously sped up, wrapped a hand around his base for a hard stroke, and took the tip as far back into his throat as it would go when Kurt released. His vision went temporarily white. He fell forward, catching himself by a hand on the nearby sink and clutching onto the edge until his fingers were numb and he was thinking that he might die right then and there. Maybe it was all the foreplay, maybe it was the kinky nature of the situation, or maybe Emery was just such a damn good cocksucker, but Kurt had never, ever felt anything like that before. He let out a pitiful groan and relaxed his aching shoulders.
"Are you alright?" Emery asked with just a hint of pride in reducing Kurt to such a disaster.
Kurt looked down at him and pushed himself back upright with great effort. "Bloody hell, I'm not."
"Good," Emery grinned.
After a moment Kurt offered a hand down and Emery took it to pull himself back to his feet. "Are you bleeding?"
Emery visibly pushed his tongue along his lower jaw. "Just a bit. Definitely worth it."
Kurt traced a thumb over Emery's flushed lower lip and smiled.
It was another few minutes before Scott came to retrieve them, relaying with exasperation that the noises upstairs were made by the spotted hen that he held under one arm when he met them, which he referred to as "this fat feathered bitch" who had gotten in through a wide open back door. After that came a veritable laundry list in characteristic fashion of everything else that he deemed wrong with this place after a good look around. Kurt, who detested birds, gave both the chicken and Scott a wide berth as he made his way towards the upstairs, biting down hard on his inner cheek to keep from reacting when a hand covertly gripped his behind. He turned an evil look on Emery, who had the gall to look clueless. There would be hell to pay for that…and Kurt very much looked forward to it.
CHAPTER 15
Emery frowned as he lowered the gun in his hand, looking out at the untouched beer bottles seated fifteen meters away on a fence. "I'm terrible at this, aren't I?"
Kurt regarded him patiently from where he leaned against the old car. "You'll do better. I've been regularly firing at targets since I was ten years old. Don't expect to be an expert just yet."
"Excellent, just give me twenty-two years and I'll be right in," Emery said, turning back to look at the fence. "…I sort of almost hit that one on the left, I think."
"Yes, perhaps if someone attacks you he'll be so impressed with how you almost hit him that he won't shoot you dead."
"That's helpful," Emery gave him a snide look. "Fuck. My hands are bloody freezing. I can't even feel the trigger anymore."
"Do you need to stop?"
Emery hesitated and then shook his head. He was sounding like such a spoiled rich brat. "No. No, let's get on with it…"
Three days was not a great deal of time to gauge improvement, but nevertheless the whole thing just made Emery feel useless. To think he'd actually entertained the notion of entering into this sort of world after the ransom was paid. What would he even do? He was a good actor, he supposed, but he couldn't simply pretend to have skillsets when the situation called for them.
Then again there would be no legitimate career path for him either. He wouldn't be able to carry over his degree once he changed his name and with no credentials and no trades, he would literally be starting out all over again.
None of that was as bad as looking like an idiot in front of Kurt, though. He had requested that Scott teach him how to shoot, but the man had been too sick to get out of bed since they arrived here and was only just now beginning to recover. He hadn't even been able to attend the latest drop that brought them up to one hundred million with just a little more to go. So instead he sat out here for hours a day making an ass out of himself in front of the only man whose approval he cared for.
"Pretend that your target is broad," Kurt said. When Emery gave him a look he made a gesture. "Go on. Most of what you need to hit the thing you're shooting at is the confidence that you'll do so. Pretend you're shooting the broadside of a barn instead of bottled stout."
"You're mad," Emery snorted, but decided to try it anyway. When the shot fired, the faint screech of breaking glass followed. Emery blinked, lowering his gun again. "I'll be fucked."
"Maybe after you hit a few more."
Emery gave Kurt a smirk and squinted out at the fence. "So I suppose all I have to do is be more certain that I'll kill the other bloke than he is certain he'll kill me, eh?"
"Something like that. You're not a natural but you're plenty bright and your eyesight is good. With a little practice you'll be alright." Kurt pushed off of the car and came over, taking the gun and looking it over.
"Yes, well I'm still a little unclear as to what I'm preparing for."
"Life after unlimited riches." Kurt held the gun outstretched and eliminated the four remaining targets with for quick shots.
That was a fair point, he supposed. Though he'd been poor before and he'd never had to shoot anybody. Why was Kurt convinced that things would become so dangerous for him? Maybe it was simply because that was all this man knew. "Hm, well I wasn't sure what I was going to do after all this, but now that I think about it I suppose you'll be retired in luxury somewhere, so…that leaves your spot in the criminal underbelly open, doesn't it?"