"No Words, No Thoughts"

Title: No Words, No Thoughts

Pairing: Stuart/OtherM

Rating: NC-17

Genre: Angst

Summary: Stuart's night after Vince literally runs away from him in QaF1.

Author Notes: I wanted to put in my 2 cents & see if I could work it more to my own tastes. Dark is fine, but sometimes I can't stand to have my fave characters torn to bits w/out trying to ressurect them in my own vision. I know there probably isn't a club like this on Canal Street, it's called creative license. Drug use and dark rooms, but the story is not a promotion for such behavior.

Spoilers: QAF1. This is an AU from the run away scene (after Phil's funeral) forward.

No Words, No Thoughts

by xof

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'Why doesn't somebody stop me?'

Sighing, Stuart leaned back against the wall at club and closed his eyes. It had been a shit day. No question. The funeral for Phil, the porn-spree through the dead man's house and then what followed at Hazel's with Nathan's scream-a-rama. Hell, sometimes Stuart didn't know what he was thinking.

'Letting my dick be my guide, again. So what's wrong with that?'

Two words - location and timing.

His mind flashed to the heat that had passed between himself and the boy. Standing in that room . . . that fucking room where he'd spent so many of his teenage days, staring at the photos of him and Vince at Nathan's age. He's suddenly felt about a thousand years old. Half a life almost gone. Jeeeeezus. He'd been aching to loose himself, to hide briefly in the pleasure of youth once more. Hadn't thought of it as a desecration of Vince's space until he'd seen the emotions blazoned across his best friend's face at the realization of what he'd done. Betrayal and hurt, sadness and anger . . . and for once unforgiveness.

Not a word . . . He'd chased after Vince feeling more desperate than he could remember being in years. And no matter what he'd offered in amends, the words didn't work. Impotent in the face of Vince's pain. After his friend had run out of his sight, Stuart had sat in his jeep trying to wade about in the void left by his absence. Stuart with Vince. Vince with Stuart. And now no Vince . . . Just Stuart.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

'I need a drink.'

He'd gone back to flat, changed out of his black as quickly as he could . . . cursing the need to have worn it in the first. Phil. That sad sack. And those photos . . . Thank god Vince had thought he was joking. But he still couldn't get rid of the image. Dozens of photos. At pub or else . . . all of Vince. Hell, he didn't even remember a camera being present at most of the occasions represented in that box. What kinda non-tourist carried a fucking camera at pub or club, standing like a twat and popping the flash? And what kind of men were they that they hadn't noticed? Subconsciously recognizing another hands-off topic - the obsession of another man for his Vince and how that made him feel - Stuart pulled on a burgundy silk shirt and black pants. He made to grab his keys but then said, "Fuck it."

He was not going to be driving tonight. Cabs would have to do.

His restlessness wouldn't abate as he prowled around through the throngs of flesh. 'Had him, had them both, wouldn't want him . . . Bloody hell.' He couldn't seem to find anyone to focus on. He'd see a bloke, say a line, snog him and then find himself bored before his hand got halfway down with the zip. After the third departing accompanied by the curses of "pricktease," Stuart new he needed something extra tonight. Alcohol be damned. Making the rounds, he begrudgingly scored off that bitch Anita. Said she didn't want to lose a customer off a bad batch. 'Bad batch, my arse.' But still he'd excepted like a twat.

Pop, swallow and wait.

He wandered outside for while . . . taking in the site of the men as they walked along until he started feeling the high coming over him. "Oh yeah...hmmm." He walked into the nearest club door, only vaguely recognizing it wasn't one he frequented. The crowd inside was a bit rougher than he normally preferred, but he was feeling no pain so he stayed to catch the show. Leather and denim seemed to drip off everything that moved in the place. He was too buzzed to care that he didn't match the crowd, but then standing out had always been his gift.

With every arse in the place so prominently displayed in tight jeans or leather, he fell into one of his mind games. Follow the leader with a twist... The twist being that you didn't look at the owner, just the goods. Letting his eyes glide along the curve of one set of cheeks only to get distracted once more by the next that passed by. He knew he was smiling evilly but didn't care. And then . . .

'Yessssss.'

Stuart caught sight of a bloke that passed close to the back against the wall. Keeping with the spirit of his game, Stuart didn't look at his face . . . nothing registered above the waist, eyes locked on only one thing . . . that arse. It was brilliant. We're talking high, tight rounded curves encased in chocolate leather pants so plastered to his skin that underwear was definitely not an issue. Stuart bit his lip as he savored the initial moment before he made his move. The moment before he became that bloke's whole world for the time it took to lose himself in shag bliss. This was going to be so good.

He watched as the bloke moved further towards the "Enter if you dare" sign that marked the dark room. Stuart grinned as he walked faster, keeping his eyes locked on the prize so that he wouldn't miss the man's next move. There were times when a dark room had served Stuart well, usually on a night when he hated the world and disliked himself. It was the ultimate in forgetting, in not knowing and in giving over to the darker tastes of his nature. He'd always managed to steer the shagging to his preferences, leaving if things got too intense. But tonight . . . faceless and fine-arsed was enough to draw him forward.

Following through the drape that covered the entrance, he blinked against the dimmed atmosphere. He was already half drowned on the beer he'd been drinking, added with the Anita's gift, so his steps were on the edge of unsteady. Hadn't been drinking water like he should. Stuart shook his head as he moved into a room lit only by bare black light bulbs hung from the amazingly high ceiling. The effect created a mass of bodies outlined only with the barest touch of luminescence as they writhed in different acts, their moans growling forth in an almost endless succession. Stuart managed to keep track of the movement of his find as the bloke stilled along the wall near the entranceway. He wasn't participating, just turning round as he took in as much of the scene as he could without being able to see, only sense the action within touching distance.

Moving in quietly, Stuart pulled the bloke back to fully press against his chest. He grinned at the gasp he heard from the man. Reaching forward, he pressed his fingers against the guy's mouth. "No words." Stuart felt it as the back tensed against his chest. Speaking in a guiding tone, he continued. "No thoughts. Just you here in this room with my hands on you. My breath hot against your neck." He blew against the goose-bumped flesh of the man's throat as his words deepened both of their breathing. "I'm gonna make you so hot, baby. Yeah. Feel that. My cock against your arse. God, your arse is fucking fabulous." Biting back a moan, Stuart pressed his head into the nape of the neck before him . . . grinding his hardened cock against the leather between them.

Stuart had to moan himself, when a second later he felt those lips open and accept his fingers inside. The glide of that hot tongue over his skin was maddening. Stroking and nibbling along the length of his hand, the bloke pressed his own hands against the wall as he moved back against the warmth and hardness of Stuart's body. "Yeah, baby. That's it. Move those hips for me." He reached round and quickly unfastened the pants, playing one hand along the aroused length of the bloke's cock as he drew it out. His shag groaned at the touch, continuing to writhe against him. The moment was dizzying in its intensity. Their ears filled with the shouts, cries and groans of men rutting together . . . mixed with the pounding beat of the music. Stuart removed his fingers from the man's mouth, drawing it down to twist the bloke's nipples through his shirt.

"Awwwww..." The tone deep and husky, Stuart bit at the flesh of his neck as the man continued to release jagged sounds in response to his touch. Stroking the hard length of his dick, Stuart fought to stay connected to him as the man's movements became more frantic. "You're getting there. So hot . . . Come on. That's it." Stuart continued to ramble obscene phrases in his ear as his shag bowed his head against the power of his desire. He reached up and grabbed a hold of the guy's short spiky hair, pushing him forward still more so that he was completely bent at the waist . . . his arse pressed fully against Stuart's still clothed cock. Manhandling him easily in the face of the bloke's need to cum, Stuart timed his strokes perfectly. Just as he felt the quake of the man's body, he jerked him fully upright . . . biting harshly into his neck as his shag jerked in his arms. As he clung to the unsteady stance of the man before him, milking the moist flood of his essence out to splash against the wall and over his hand, Stuart felt his own sense of disorientation increase tenfold. With a last desperate attempt to keep his balance, he leaned heavily into the man's body . . . only to lose all sense of himself upon hearing the rambled whisper, "Stuart. Oh my god, Stuart," coming from the bloke's mouth.

As full darkness folded in on his consciousness he asked shakily, "Vince?"

Then the world faded out and all was but a void.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When next Stuart remembered his eyes opening, he was struggling slightly to escape from the silken tangle of the sheets on his bed. Murmuring, "Bloody hell," he staggered over across flat to the get some water. His head was feeling unspeakable. "Bitch." Anita was off his fucking list for life. What the fuck had she given him? He couldn't remember how he'd gotten home. Or much of what had happened after Babylon earlier that night. The clock glared back at him in the darkness . . . 5:33 AM. How'd he get home?

For some reason he felt a sudden craving for chocolate . . . The thought sent a spark through his groin. What the hell?

Shaking his head, he walked over to use the bathroom. He washed his face and brushed his teeth slowly, his eyes closed against the mirror's lights. Stuart thought he remembered parts of the night . . . the restlessness he'd felt . . . the shame he'd never admit to for having hurt Vince. Vince . . .

Something was missing from his mind. What . . .

"Fuck!" His thoughts were interrupted as he fell quite ungraceful on his naked arse, having tripped over something on his way back to bed. Rubbing his bum, Stuart grabbed the item with the intent of slinging it across the room in his frustration . . . only to stop when he recognized he was holding the chocolate leather pants from last night's shag. His memory flashed onto the image of following some fabulous arse round some leather club, entering a dark room . . . and then the rest was a blank. Well, obviously the guy was still here. Hmmm . . . good. He was in the mood for some fun.

Stuart crawled grinning towards the bed, naked and feeling so alive despite the fussiness of his thoughts. Climbing back onto the bed, he gave a sharp laugh at seeing that his bedmate was all but buried beneath a ton of pillows turned away on his side but with the sheet pulled back over the curve of his hips . . . leaving that brilliant arse opened to Stuart's lecherous view. The bloke's head was covered, muffled were the quietness of his snores. No telling what he looked like, but with an arse like that . . . who the hell cared.

He lightly traced his hand down the pale line of the man's back, loving the smoothness of the skin as he rubbed tantalizing circles over the small of his back. The bloke moaned in his sleep, turning over on his stomach as if to give Stuart complete access. "Yesss..." Taking in the light redness here and there that spoke to their shared passion and Stuart's tendency to nibble as well as lick his bedmates, he retraced his hand's path down the man's spine with his tongue. Lord how he tasted. Like cream he was. Salty but light . . . causing him to harden as the body pressed back into his touch. Stuart's mouth traveled over the curves of his cheeks, smiling devilishly as the man groaned aloud in wakefulness when at last Stuart's tongue breached the inner slope of his arse. Massaging his hips, gliding his hands over the expanse of his back and driving them both mad with the wantonness of his actions, Stuart growled when the man threw his arm out over his covered head to grasp at the headboard of the bed. Continuing to arch backwards against Stuart's mouth, he moaned fiercely as his cock was taken into his seducer's hand.

Stuart reached over pressing himself half against the man's body as he made a grab for his nightstand drawer. Finding what he needed, he laid himself out fully over the body sprawled in his bed. Pressing his hard cock against the wondrous heat of the man's flesh, Stuart whispered a promise. "I'm gonna fuck you till you scream, baby. So good, it's gonna be so good."

His shag moved against him, spreading his legs in answer. Stuart lifted up onto his knees between the man's thighs, stroking his own cock with one hand as he moved to ready his way with the other. So tight . . . it'll be like a vice gripping half the life from his body. Moaning as his own breath quickened, Stuart pressed finally two then three fingers into the man's body. His own desire reaching a fevered-pitch, Stuart removed them as he roughly jerked the man upwards onto his knees. The man's face remained buried, his groans cried out into the bedding. Sheathing his length in preparation, Stuart bit down on his bottom lips as he lubed his sensitive cock.

Pressing down on his neck so that the man's arse remained high, Stuart covered him with his own body. Pushing forward as he bit down lightly once more into his back, Stuart gasped out, "Oh fuck. Yeah, that's it. So tight. Perfect." Thrusting fully into the man's heat, he moved forward and back and forward again in a harsh rhythm meant to drive the fire deeper into their bones. The man was almost trashing in his desire to have more, be feel more in this culmination. Stuart clutched at his hips, pulling him into his trusts almost blind and deaf to everything but the friction they were creating until . . .

Until in absolute shock, Stuart watched as the man jerked upwards . . . cresting the wave of silken pillows to surface with a cry of, "Stuart. Oh god. More Stuart, please."

"Vince!" Feeling his friend grip his hands around his waist when Stuart would have moved away, he sputtered, "What the fuck? Vince, how'd . . ."

Gritting his teeth, Vince moaned as Stuart moved further within him in his surprise. Not wanting to lose their connection, he gasped out a command. "Don't you damn well stop now. You bastard, move. Finish this." Gripping Stuart tightly within his body . . . using his own desperate need to fuel his courage, Vince cried out, "No words. No thoughts. Just fuck me."

So much, too much . . . the feelings. His Vince . . . in his arms, around his cock. "Awwwwww..." Stuart pulled him back until he was pressed fully against Stuart's chest, both of them on their knees with his cock still buried in Vince's arse. He pulled Vince's hand downwards until they both took his friend's cock in their grasp. Changing his thrusts, Stuart angled his hips in a slower sensuous gliding stroke to match the play of their entwined fingers over his Vince's aching hard-on . . . drawing out their shag, making every move more intimate. Stuart murmured, "Yes, Vince. Oh yeah . . ." His words released breathlessly against Vince's ear as his friend continued to arch backwards along his chest.

Vince's answering, "Stuart. Oh my god, Stuart," rising in tone as they neared their peaks.

Trailing his mouth downwards as his hips jerked forward into the storm, Stuart new only one rational thought before he lost himself completely in their fire . . . when at last his lips moved over the mark of teeth marks he'd made the night before. Last night, dark room, chocolate leather, heat and Vince in his arms. "Jeeeesuz!!!" The memory flashed across his mind, echoing the passion he now felt quake through not only his body . . . but also what seemed like his soul. "Vince...cum for me, baby. Do it. Awwww . . ."

"Stuart!" Vince shuddered against him as Stuart felt the warm of him erupt over their joined hands as he came within Vince's body. Rocking back and forth as he struggled to recapture his equilibrium, Stuart held Vince close . . . their bodies still connected.

As Vince leaned heavily into him, Stuart finally lowered them both to the bed. Biting back a moan as he withdrew from Vince, Stuart rid himself of their protection before lying down and pulling Vince around to look at him. Not knowing what to say, Stuart drew Vince's wet hand to his mouth . . . licking away his passion with flicks of his tongue.

"Oh god, Stuart. My heart isn't going to withstand you . . ." Vince gasped out, his eyes darkened with emotion.

God, he's the balm of my soul. Suddenly Stuart's chest felt too full so he asked, "Kiss me?"

Vince smiled beautifully, until Stuart saw a shadow of doubt skirt across his eyes. "A kiss goodbye, is it?"

Stuart pushed him onto his back, pressing him down into the bed as he traced the small imprint of his teeth against the smooth line of Vince's throat. "Not if you have the strength to love me despite my nature." He leaned in and at last took the kiss he'd long needed to complete him heart. "Three things, Vince."

Watching as Vince licked his taste off his lips as he ran his hands through the tangle of Stuart's dark curls, his lover asked, "Yeah?"

"One - I love you, Vince." Seeing the smile once more alight in the man's eyes, Stuart once more stole a kiss freely given. "I need you. Always have."

Vince whispered in awe, "Love you more." He smiled at Stuart's chuckle, hugging him close. "Two?"

Losing the grin, Stuart spoke seriously. "Two - I'm sorry. For everything, Vince. I know I don't deserve you in my life." Blinking as he fought back against the tears he knew could fall, Stuart said quietly, "But I'm so grateful that you're still with me. Thank you."

Vince lay still, absorbing the frankness and need that shown on Stuart's face. When he at last found his voice, he murmured, "You're welcome." Drawing him down again, they kissed so sweetly. Moaning as Stuart traced his lips with the warmth of his tongue, Vince opened for him completely. Their breaths entangled as their hearts beat in syncopation.

When at last they felt the strength to release themselves from the other's taste, Vince asked in a tone made low with arousal, "And third?"

Grinning down into his lover's shining eyes, Stuart asked his last question of the night. "Third - my wonderful lad . . ." he said as he rolled his hips into the renewed hardness of Vince's cock. "Where the fuck did you find those leather pants?" Seeing Vince's answering frown, Stuart continued, "I'm planning on burning all of your underwear in the morning, you know."

"Stuart!"

Laughing at Vince's shocked expression, Stuart stopped his lover's next words with his mouth . . .content at finding that in losing himself to another soul, he'd finally found a home in Vince's arms.

Finis