|hermit9 (hermit9) wrote in hobbits_n_orli,|
@ 2008-02-10 00:38:00
He was the one always covered in black grease and yet somehow, Lij was the one everyone called 'dirty'. 'Trashy' sounded more accurate to Dom, at least as a day-to-day adjective to describe the young man. It was more than just his appearance. More than just ripped jeans that exposed too much skin, thin, holy teeshirts that you couldn't read anymore, messy uncut hair, and sneakers with bald soles and grey abraded leather. Lij wore it like a purple heart. He was trashy in the best way, like cheap candy that turns your mouth colors, olive green thread-bare carpeting, walked on and vacuumed to death, beat-up old Camaros, sweat and glitter. He was a wriggling, giggling, shameless kind of trashy. It always made Dom smile because he understood it even if nobody else did.
He was working on an old Firebird. Sixty-nine. Not an old Camaro, but possibly even trashier because of the condition. Reminded him of Lij, anyway. Despite the endless possibilities for attractive colors, this one was orange. A little rust but not too bad, considering. Tacky black racing stripe. Dull paint. Not that a glossy coat would have made up for the horrible color. The thing that made it worth keeping was the rag top (which was down now just for shits) and the near cherry interior. All black vinyl and hot as fuck it being late June and a million degrees in the shop. It needed absolutely everything. The guy who owned it had been doing the work himself but shouldn't have. Dom'd had the hood open for hours now, and earlier on the lift, he'd looked, gaped, shook his head, and set it back down on the floor. He almost considered handing this one off to his Uncle (loves the old ones) and just going back in the house to the olive and brown living room, sitting in front of the TV with a beer until it got cooler. It was Lij who made him stay.
He showed up out of the blue as he sometimes does, on foot, kicking up dust in the droughty lot; Dom's patient waiting room. Always with those god-damn lollipops. He'd forget his own addiction to Dum-Dums until Lij would show up with a pocket-full of the things and one in his mouth. He sometimes wondered if it didn't all stem directly from the sugar. Mm, probably not.
Lij got up on the back end of the car and it creaked and dipped dangerously under his weight. His eyes got big(ger) for a second and his lollipop stick flicked to the left quickly as he braced his hands on the hot metal and then chuckled a little when he decided the car wasn't going to collapse underneath him.
“This car's fucked,” Dom said by way of explanation.
Lij grinned salaciously and Dom could see the mushy pink middle of his lollipop stick between his teeth. Dom helplessly smiled back and shook his head, returning to the dark cave under the hood.
He leaned over the car, scraping corrosion off the battery contacts in hopes that he might someday be able to loosen them enough to disconnect the thing, all the while listening to Lij's candy clack against his teeth.
He knew he was in trouble when he heard the old stick hit the plastic garbage bag just behind him, and the crinkle of waxed paper as Lij opened another one, stuck it in his mouth, warmed it up.
The car creaked loudly again and lurched upward as Lij slid off the back, and Dom flinched, raising a hand to the hood above his head just in case. Then there was a wet pop near his cheek, and Lij was next to him, hip against the fender. He could smell it. Root beer. And what other flavor was a more appropriate match with Lij? Dom opened his mouth like it was the the most natural thing in the world, eyes to Lij's, took the candy, and his mouth did that sharp clenching thing that your mouth does on the first taste of something super sweet. His cheeks ached for a moment. His salivary glands couldn't seem to catch up, and he stood up straight, bumping his head on the hood just a little, and pulled on the stick, finding it damn near lodged in his cheek. It popped out finally, and he licked all around his dry, sticky-sweet mouth before returning it to a more comfortably wet palate. His hands were filthy, he noticed. His fingers were blackened all over, the grease throwing his fingerprints and knuckles into sharp relief. They left a gray mark on the lollipop stick. Nothing new really. He was used to it. He only noticed because it might pose a problem in a moment.
Lij just looked at Dom as he sucked on his Dum-Dum, and that clenchy mouth thing came back. Lij's eyes were oil-fire blue and made Dom's chest and groin throb once in unison. He took a moment and studied his face. Never really got tired of looking at him; if he could drag his gaze away from those eyes long enough to appreciate the rest of him, that is. His slim body remained boyish and soft, only the breadth of his shoulders, strong calves and a slight roundness to his belly betraying his adulthood.
A cicada buzzed loud in a tree outside, signaling in case anyone had forgotten, that yes, the heat was oppressive and brutal this day, and something was going to have to give.
Dom's jaw hurt and he was covered in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. He popped out the candy again and gave it back to Lij. Lij took it with his teeth while his hands struck forward and found the zipper on Dom's blue, grease-stained, sweat-soaked, dirt-infused, yet washed-yesterday coveralls. Easy zip, they came down off his arms, below his hips and bunched there in nothing but a couple of seconds time. As Lij worked on his jeans with more than a hint of agitation, Dom mindlessly leaned in to get a taste of root beer on Lij's lips. An overabundance of sticky, sweet saliva, and Lij had to pause, yank the pop from his mouth and throw it so he could swallow and then continue to devour Dom's mouth with vehemence and struggle with the jeans on his hips. Dom stood there, leaning helplessly, arms out and away like a sunning bird, unable to touch anything with his black hands. He wasn't sure why he cared. Lij didn't care how dirty he got. Not now.
Lij got his jeans down, and then worked his own like an Olympian, throwing his red shirt over the hot metal of the car door while Dom picked his own shirt off with as few fingers and as little dirt transfer as possible. He saw the shirt and saw Lij with his bare ass against it, hard, waiting for the command to turn around, and decided that wasn't what he wanted. He really didn't want to see the General Lee orange the whole time. It would just add a dimension of hillbilly to this ritual that he was not prepared to confront. Sex in a restored '69 Firebird was one thing, but staring at the rust bubbling the bottom of the door would just remind him of how not-restored the thing actually was. It felt like crossing a line. Maybe the Mason-Dixon, or maybe just something a little more abstract, imaginary, figmental, and subjectively 'in Dom's head.' He motioned for Lij to step away and he wrenched the car door open. It complained just as much as the springs in back. Lij dropped his shirt on the hot vinyl and crawled on hands and knees over the middle console and over to the passenger seat, hands settling on the passenger door. The seats were already pushed all the way back, so he had plenty of room.
For a kid that walked everywhere all summer long and had a penchant for skinny-dipping, he was shockingly pale against the black. Pale and clean. He always was. It evinced how trashy he really was not. No dirty fingernails like Dom. No rough skin. No nicotene-stained teeth or untended scars. Even the bottoms of his feet would be rosy, not dark, if Dom could have seen them.
Seeing perfect, gorgeous, child-eyed, angelic, little Lij like this, hard and dripping, barely able to sit still long enough for Dom to get in the car with him; it was corruption at its best. Like watching, not even hearing, but seeing the most lewd obscenities fall from pink pristine lips; directed at him, instructions, demands. Up until very recently, Dom didn't even know he had a taste for such things. He wondered if Lij drew it out of him, like cannon-fire brings sunken things to the surface of the river, or if Lij put it into him, stung him with it like a hornet. Or might it be more permanent? A pigment injected beneath the skin? It was hard to think of Lij in a permanent sense.
Dom was about to climb in the driver's seat when he realized he was just going to have to get back out again. Lij wouldn't have even known he was gone if it weren't for the scrape of his shoes on the concrete floor. He was in the office in two strides with the bottle of baby oil he had hidden in the crack between the desk and the wall, and back in two more. He had put the bottle there after the last time Lij had accosted him while he was working. Even the bottle was grungy but that didn't matter, and he didn't worry about his hands on the inside of the car too much either, there wasn't anything there that wasn't already black, but thrumming and achingly hard and not thinking clearly, he still had a problem when he climbed in the driver's seat and looked at Lij's bare ass. Lij looked back at him, wondering what the hold up was. He rolled his eyes and took the bottle from Dom, smearing a little on himself and then grabbing Dom's cock with a handful of slick heat. Dom lurched at the contact but came back to himself with a double-take when Lij shut the cap on the bottle and tossed it into the back seat. He was going to have to remember to retrieve that.
Dom leaned forward, and once again this no hands thing was “fucking pants” as his friend Bill would say. Once again, Lij was doing his job for him and held him tight as he backed his pink pucker onto Dom. Dom groaned and snatched at the steering wheel. Lij wasn't waiting or taking it easy or any of that today. He leaned forward a little and then backed into him again, hard, with a grunt, cock buried, and the wheel turned in Dom's grasp. He could hear the grit of the tires turning on the cement floor until the wheel locked. Lij started panting as soon as he found a rhythm pounding against Dom and he started whispering those gorgeous vulgarities in between breaths.
Dom couldn't get a grip on this. His knees were up against the middle console, but his hands were nearly behind him, one on the wheel, one on the driver's headrest, and with Lij throwing himself onto him like a fucking slut, the sudden overload of sensation, the zinging going from his toes up into his sinuses and back, the unbelievable tight heat around his cock, plus the physical weirdness of the position had him scrambling to stay upright. He grabbed at the other headrest and that was better, but now he was twisted and leaning over Lij, and Lij was making frustrated little sounds and trying to wiggle to get what he wanted from Dom's cock. What he needed to do, what they both need him to do, was take him by the hips.
Lij's skin was so white. He stopped his manic thrusting for a spell and wrestled with his jeans in the seat until they lay crumpled on the floor. Dom caught his breath, the air he was sucking in was hotter than him though, and he wished for a fan or an ice pack or just something to wipe the tickling sweat off his back at this point. He wiped his face with his upper arm and looked down at his cock. Fucking purple. Lij put one foot on the floor now, dug the other knee into the crook of the seat, and Dom looked at his hands in the foreground on the backdrop of Lij's white back.
“Dom,” Lij murmured his need, just barely above a whisper. It sounded like the first drops of rain falling from an aching, dark sky, a creaking dam about to burst in a silent canyon.
Dom placed his fingertips on Lij's shoulder blades and slid in easy. A slow experimental in and out made Lij moan all long and creaky like the car's rusty joints. A slight smile crept up on Dom's face and as he slid home again, he dragged his black fingers down Lij's back leaving ten long streaks that moved and squirmed with the skin, and that was exactly it. Dom picked up the pace, sinking into the heat and the slippery fun with his hands wrapped around Lij's hips, leaving smudges all over that he couldn't take his eyes off of except when Lij did that thing that made him throw his head back and near convulse it was so good. He wanted to reach down and grab Lij's cock but that was just not a good idea, he knew, even with no blood-flow to his brain. Lij would probably never bend over a car for him again if he had to use pumice soap on his cock to get it clean. Besides, Lij would do it himself if he wanted. So he settled for another approach.
Dom moved his filthy hands up a bit, palms on Lij's buttocks, thumbs near the crack, ever so gently spreading as Dom fucked him. The slight change allowed just a fraction more depth and he shivered despite the heat. Then he straightened his arms and pushed down, lifting himself up and putting half his weight on Lij. He groaned beneath Dom under the extra weight but seemed to immediately approve when it changed the angle enough to ram into that sweet little spot up in front. Lij was gasping and yelling alternately through clenched teeth and a wide open mouth before he started shaking and bucking as he came. Dom was right behind him, riding the wake of his spasming hole until eternity stretched out before him and then was blown away in a hot dusty breeze.
“Fuck,” Lij said for about the forty-seventh time. Dom pulled out of him, catching his breath again, shouldering the sweat on his eyes, and admiring his “dirty work”. Lij's ass had two black hand prints, the thumbs pointing right at his abused little hole, his hips had an enigmatic smear of grime all over them with many little satellite smudges, and then there were the ten streaks, outlined in sweat. His back looked like an unsubtly erotic Rorschach print. Dom smiled sleepy-eyed. Racing stripes, he thought to himself and stifled a giggle. It really wasn't all that funny, but sex sometimes made him giddy.
When Lij had sufficiently regained his composure he turned around and dispatched Dom's mouth and tongue again in appreciation, nipping with flat teeth and slicking his hands across sweat-soaked flesh. Dom didn't hesitate to do the same, spreading just a little more dirt on Lij's bare skinny chest and ribs, too.
Lij withdrew languidly and sank into the sun-hot seat. The rays were pouring through the windows right on them and alighting dust in the air in the darker shadowy corners of the shop. Lij winced at a hot spot on his back.
“You wanna go for a swim?” Lij asked.
“You should take a bath.”
He looked down at himself and wrigglegiggled. “We could do both.”
One final gusty breath to recapture some oxygen. “K.”