Wild Boys: An Apocalyptic MM Romance

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Wild Boys: An Apocalyptic MM Romance Page 4

by C. Margery Kempe


  “Huh.” Joey shook his head. “How did you manage to get that close without them noticing you?”

  Digger laughed a little, feeling foolish, but proud. “The vents.”

  “Vents?” Joey looked down at him. His face looked so handsome in the twilight, as if the dying light captured something golden within him and made it shine even more.

  Digger swallowed. “The air vents. I’m small enough to fit in them, though I have to kind of wiggle backward to get back out again.”

  Joey smiled, his white teeth shining in the growing darkness. “That’s really clever! What made you think of that?”

  “Well, ah…” Digger was reluctant to say, but Joey seemed to guess anyway.

  “It’s not the first time you’ve done that.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “I wonder what things you’ve seen from up there.” He was still smiling, but his voice was so quiet he was almost whispering. “It’s fun to be a voyeur sometimes.”

  Digger didn’t know what to say. He was even more surprised when Joey laid a large hand on his thigh and let it rest there. The warmth of his palm scorched Digger’s leg, or so he thought. His cock stirred at once, yearning toward the hand, though he was afraid to move.

  “We do things inside that we might not do…outside,” Joey continued.

  “Sure,” Digger said, his mouth feeling very dry.

  “Even if things might seem unnatural, we have…natural urges.”

  “Nature has a lot of variety.” Digger suddenly remembered an article he’d read in the free paper on the bus. “There’s gay penguins, I read about it. In the newspaper.”

  “Really?” Joey seemed genuinely surprised. It was hard to believe there were still people who doubted that, but Digger had met enough of the unenlightened in dark corridors to know that it was sadly true.

  “Yep. In every species around the world. It just happens.” He gathered his courage and put his own hand on top of Joey’s. The warmth between them was nice—real. He wanted it to be more.

  He wanted it to be hot.

  Digger also wanted it to be safe. If he was misreading Joey’s reactions, he knew all too well how it could end. He didn’t fancy being thrown to the Agents of Control as a punching bag. Even if it was Joey’s nature, he might not act on it. After all, in the kind of world they both came from, nature didn’t matter as much as custom.

  In the cells, all seemed quiet. There was a murmur of conversation somewhere in the distance, but nothing around this end of the corridor. Digger stared at the pictures stuck to the wall of Joey’s cell. He had sort of had the vague impression of the usual rock-n-roll obsession from them, but as he studied the pictures now in the deepening gloom, he realized they were almost all classic glam: Bowie, Bolan, Slade, Roxy—no wonder he’d gone with the Diamond Dogs as a name. The little flame of hope in his chest got bigger as he thought about what it might mean.

  Then he was startled as Joey grabbed his hand and brought it over to his crotch. Digger could feel the beginnings of a bulge there and flexed his fingers tentatively to trace its shape. He could hear Joey’s breathing start to pick up. A chill went up his neck, but it was a good kind of chill. It made his nipples pop out and his dick get harder.

  Digger quickly moved himself between Joey’s knees. He brought his face to the zipper in his jeans and breathed hard through the thick fabric. Joey gasped a little. Digger used both hands to press against the stiffening cock, licking his lips with anticipation. He opened the button at the top and slowly slid the zipper down. Like most of the boys, Joey went commando, so his nice thick cock popped out almost at once, like a treat before Digger’s eyes. He looked up at Joey, but his eyes were closed.

  Digger enjoyed the visual feast. He’d seen him from a distance many times but never up close. Joey’s cock was thick and veiny, rigid now as if begging for his lips. He poked his tongue out to touch the swollen tip and heard Joey hiss with pleasure. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them down to give him full access. Joey rose just enough to make the movement easier, then leaned back on his elbows, his head against the cool cement wall.

  Digger caressed his balls with the right hand, while his left hand encircled Joey’s hard-on. How long since he had touched anyone but himself? He had not had such pleasure in far too long. Back in the day he got off only intermittently with his friend Damien. And that was just convenience. They pleasured each other because they sought that release and recognized the echo in each other. He didn’t really fancy the boy.

  With Joey it was different. He was totally smitten with him. It made Digger want to give him pleasure beyond measure, as if that alone might make him return some love. He took the velvety head of his cock between his lips and swirled his tongue around it as Joey panted. Slowly, he began to slide his meat deep, deeper, as deep as he could go with it, all the while fondling his balls, admiring the weight and shape of them.

  His own erection strained against the front of his trousers, but he didn’t dare try to move onto the bed into a mutually satisfactory position. His excitement would have to wait. Instead, he concentrated on giving Joey every imaginable joy he could muster with his hands and mouth.

  At least he knew he was far more willing than DD ever had been.

  Digger moved his mouth down to taste the hairy balls, allowing his fingers to roam over the tender skin of Joey’s thighs. He must have been ticklish, as wiggled a little and it made Digger laugh. He let the bollock pop out of his mouth and ran his lips from the base of his shaft back to the wet head. He poked his tongue more aggressively into the slit at the top, tasting the salty precum and hearing Joey gasp more markedly. He took him deep into his mouth again while he held both thighs firmly, slowly beginning to gain speed in his movements, but stopping them precipitously whenever Joey became too urgent in his thrusts.

  Finally, Joey could stand his teasing no more and brought both hands up to grab fistfuls of Digger’s hair. He fought against the press of those hands as Joey groaned with delayed excitement. Then he gave in and let Joey move his head where he willed, sucking hard all the while, deep and fast and then in small movements holding his mouth just over the tip, and at last deep again, hard as he exploded inside Digger’s mouth with a loud grunt of satisfaction. Digger memorized every movement of their encounter as he swallowed the bounty bestowed to him. It might be the only time he would be allowed and if so, he was going to savor it.

  Allowing the cock to slip from his mouth, he kissed Joey’s thighs and groin as he lay panting beneath him. He looked up, but Joey’s eyes were closed, though his mouth was open. He looked so much more vulnerable just then. Digger wished he had the courage to crawl up on the bed with him, but it seemed too much to ask. This was enough. This was good.

  “See you tomorrow,” Digger whispered. Joey raised a hand as if to wave good-bye or to dismiss him, he wasn’t sure. Digger took off down the corridor to his own cell and stripped quickly and got under the covers. His own cock remained rock hard and he wrapped his fist around it at once. He closed his eyes and remembered Joey’s hand on his thigh, that first tentative move, then imagined if that hand had moved to his fly, releasing his cock, wrapped around it to pump away—slowly at first, then more quickly. What if Joey’s mouth had sought out his erection, gave it the same attention he had lavished on him? Digger shivered in the dark.

  Or what if Joey had turned him over, lifted his arse into the air, spit on his hands and opened up his crack for a pounding? Digger turned over and got on his knees so he could picture it even more vividly. He wanted to think of Joey’s big cock head stuffed deep inside him, then reaching around to fist his shank as they moved in unison.

  Digger could feel himself coming close to the edge and turned back over again to lay on his back. He thought of Joey’s smile, those big blue eyes, the strong hands that had gripped his hair and urged him on as he sucked him deep. That was the hottest moment, he decided. His scalp still tingled. He ran the moment backward and forward in his mind like a piece
of film. He was already studying every frame of the memory to wring out the shivers of pleasure in each detail.

  It was all there: the cool of that dark cell, the tangy scent of Joey, the feel of his strong hands gripping Digger’s hair, his hastening excitement and then that groan of exquisite joy. Digger panted as he got closer and closer, and this time he couldn’t stop or delay, but squeezing the tip, came so hard he saw stars and gasped, light-headed from the force of it.

  And then he slept.

  v

  In the morning, Digger awoke from a wild dream. The whole of this crew of wild boys, seething with anger and hormones, locked in this vault that might well prove their coffin—in his dream they erupted into an untamed orgy. He had no idea how it was supposed to have started; just that all at once the library—he had almost forgotten about its existence—had been filled with their bodies. And music—he was pretty sure there had been music. They were all naked, they were all excited. He was not afraid of anyone, not even Johnny. In fact, he recalled suddenly being between Joey and Johnny as they both lavished attention on him, kissing and stroking his flesh until he seemed ready to burst, even as he admired the others around them in bunches, flesh on flesh giving pleasure. Glen sat in one big chair, his head thrown back and his tattooed arms gripping the shelves behind him as ArachNed sucked his cock enthusiastically. And he distinctly remembered Sid bending over DD, slamming his cock into the junkie even as Simon waltzed up and impaled his bony white arse until the three of them swayed together in surging bliss.

  His cock strained so hard that Digger knew he’d have to relieve it before he got to work spying on Johnny’s crew. It took barely a few strokes before he came, his other hand thrust into his mouth to keep from making too much noise. Digger lay on his bed, staring up at the springs above him. If he’d spent the night with Joey, they could have enjoyed that moment together. How wonderful it would be to share his dream. Instead, he reached over to pick up his journal and write it down with as much lingering zest as he could hang onto. The bare walls of his cell belied his rich imagination. He thought of Joey’s rock star collage. Maybe that was braver, a sign to those in the know, but he didn’t feel all that brave.

  Nonetheless, when he made his way surreptitiously to the entrance to the vents, Digger could feel his sense of adventure return. It was quiet: none of the other boys seemed to be stirring yet. He wondered why he still thought of them all as boys when it was clear the system considered them as good as men—or at least as dangerous as men. However, it was hard to feel like men when they were locked up.

  Inside the locker room, Digger climbed up into the vent, pulling the cover flush behind him. He wondered if there was some way to secure it better. No one was likely to hit it or jar it loose, but he worried nevertheless as he crawled along in the tunnel. He wanted to be far enough away to not be easily spotted if he had to move, but as he approached the gym and the spot where he could turn upright, it struck him that he might have better opportunities closer to the room where they changed into their workout clothes. He made his way back into what he hoped would be sufficient range, then began to doze as there was nothing else to do in the confined situation.

  Before long the usual playful bickering, catcalls and putdowns echoed through the corridors as Johnny’s team arrived to dress. Digger rubbed his face, feeling a bit groggy as he did his best to distinguish one voice from another. When Johnny bellowed for them all to shut their faces, the task proved much easier. Squinting down the tunnel, Digger edged himself closer. It seemed Johnny was going to give some kind of pep talk.

  “You guys made a great effort out there yesterday, and I want to see even more aggression and strength building today. We want to be in tip top shape for the plan. We have to be ready.”

  “We’ll crush them!” cried Sid. His voice was always clear like glass cutting through soft skin. “They won’t stand a chance.”

  Digger could feel the adrenaline rise in his veins. What were they going on about? When were they planning to crush them? They’d have to be ready. They were talking about Joey’s team, right? Or was it someone else? Was there anyone else? He felt confused, but there wasn’t much else to go on. Most of the other talk was just guttural yawps and howls—the normal sort of locker room braggadocio.

  When at last they seemed to have all moved into the gymnasium, Digger wiggled up to the grate to peek down and around the room. Though he could likely have listened a bit longer to their practice sessions to see what was going on, Digger suspected that this was the gist of useful information, and he was eager to tell Joey. Not that he thought he’d get some kind of reward, though he had to admit just seeing his face was plenty of a reward. But they should know there was an attack of some kind planned. What could they do about it? Digger didn’t know, but Joey would.

  He slipped back out of the vent and skirted around the locker room just in case any stragglers were lingering. Then he trotted back to the cafeteria, which seemed to work as headquarters for Joey’s group. They were all hard at work on knotting together the cords for the ladder from the roof room. Glen walked around checking the quality of the knots, nodding his head approvingly or demanding it be undone and retied. “Someone has to climb down this ladder and if it’s me I don’t want to fall and break a leg because of your lazy fingers.”

  Joey looked up when Digger walked in. He nodded in welcome. It was hard to read his expression. Digger wanted to see some kind of warmth there, but he figured Joey didn’t want to betray too much that was private. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Digger just hoped that he wouldn’t pretend it never happened. That would crush him.

  “I’m a bit disturbed by what I heard in the locker room,” he said in a quiet voice as he sat down at the table where Joey and ArachNed conferred.

  “What’s his plan?” Joey looked completely focused. ArachNed looked a bit worried.

  “They’re just working out. Johnny wants them working on aggression and strength. They were saying things like ‘we’ll crush them!’ but I don’t know if it means us or someone else. They don’t seem to be doing anything else. There wasn’t any talk of plans, just ‘the plan’ and everybody seemed to know it.” Digger shrugged, feeling a little deflated in telling such a flat story. “I can go back later and see if they say something more useful.”

  Joey nodded. “That’s a good idea. In the meantime, you can lend a hand here, because it looks like we’re ready to give it a go. You two go block the door. We don’t want Johnny’s team popping in while we try this out.”

  ArachNed and Digger did their best to brace the door, propping a chair under the handle then shoving a few more against it and finally leaning one of the round tables aslant as well. Then they trailed the others as they twisted through the guards’ lounge adjacent and beyond it to the staircase they had discovered that led up to the roof turret, where the guards had a crafty smoke or drink on their breaks. The little tower stuck out from the building. Rumor had it the prison had been built on a medieval castle. It seemed unlikely, nonetheless the odd shape of the towers certainly gave it an old timey look.

  The corded ladder was fixed firmly to the struts in the ceiling. Glen eagerly threw a leg over and began to descend. “You want someone else to go along? ArachNed maybe?” Joey asked him as he blinked in the sunlight.

  “Not until I get to the ground. I know you all did your best, but let’s make sure it can get me down and back up. I don’t want to be stranded below.” Despite his words, Glen looked quite happy, excited to be doing something practical. They all watched him climb down to the ground, carefully testing each rung as he put his weight on it, relieved that they appeared to be sound.

  Once on the ground, he saluted up to the gang then took the drawings out of his pocket that he and ArachNed had sketched out, looking around him to get his bearings. “He’s got no sense of direction,” ArachNed muttered, then swung out over the edge and climbed down the rope ladder with a little more confidence than Glen had shown. At the bottom, the two of the
m conferred. ArachNed pulled something out of his pocket that reflected light for a second as it set in his palm.

  “Ah, a compass,” Digger heard Joey mutter. An awfully handy thing to have when reading a map, if movies were anything to judge by. Digger had never actually seen a real compass, but everybody knew they were magnets that pointed north. He tried to remember where north was.

  Glen and ArachNed seemed satisfied with their sense of location and walked off to explore, with luck in the direction of the power station or furnace room, or whatever they were calling it. If they could get the power on, that would change everything—not least of which included the mood of the inmates. Until the contest, they had seemed content enough, but the excitement evident now showed how dull they were before. The glow of pleasure on Joey’s face made Digger smile, though he ducked his head away to hide it once he realised he was doing it.

  All too soon, the explorers were back and climbing the ladder once more. Glen looked annoyed, but ArachNed seemed his normal self. When they got to the top, Joey got the others to step back and leave a little room. “Let them breathe!”

  “There’s a problem,” Glen said, shaking his head. “There are walls cutting us off before we can get to the doors that might lead us to where the power is.”

  “Never mind getting that door open unless it was on the same electric circuit like our cells, which it probably wasn’t,” ArachNed added.

  “Can we get over the walls? Maybe with more cables?” Joey wasn’t ready to be discouraged yet. The day was young.

  “Possibly,” Glen said, leaning against the wall to catch his breath from the climb. “It would be so much simpler if we could get over to that tower.” He pointed to the mirror image turret across the way. “If we could open the doors to the corridor that leads there—”

  “We tried that when the fires started. It’s those big double doors.” Joey shook his head. “We’re not getting through them without a giant blowtorch or something.”

 

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