No infringement of the following characters and situations is intended.
Warning: Rated [MA] Mature Adults only. Contains strong m/m sexual scenes, violence, coarse language and adult themes.
San Francisco, 1870s.
Archie shifted impatiently, nervously on the crimson silk chair, seated in the brightly lit lobby, waiting for Jack. He was hungry, but he couldn't eat, the knot in his stomach squeezing him unmercifully. He never knew what sort of mood Jack would be in. He heard a roar of laughter from the gambling roo, through the curtains. Please please please, he begged.
A young willowy blonde, primped, preened, curled and swathed in lace kept sneaking him glances under the crystal chandelier, and where he caught her eyes for a moment there was a silent, almost sympathetic understanding. She was here for the same purpose. Archie glanced away, ashamed, embarrassed that it was so obvious now. He caught his reflection in the gilt mirror. Young, blonde, primped and preened to the best perfection money could by. What else could he be?
Jack emerged at last through the curtains, cigar smoked to the very stub. He proceeded straight up the wide mahogany staircase, and Archie dutifully fell in behind him. Up the stair and into their room, he immediately poured and presented Jack with a large scotch while Jack doffed his jacket, sorting through the pockets for crumpled notes, smoothing them down with his hand as he counted them out on the counter. Jack had obviously been able to cheat tonight, cheat easily and well. This meant they would be moving on, but Archie didn't mind. He didn't go out, nor did he talk to anyone. One town was much the same as any other.
Knowing what was expected of him, he stripped slowly while Jack lounged in the large chair, slowly drinking his bourbon. No words were spoken, none were needed. Archie arranged himself in the bed and waited. Jack threw the rest of his bourbon down his throat and bit down on the burn, rising and placing the glass down with deliberate care, pulling his cravat free. Archie rose up to greet him, quick and nimble fingers unbuttoning jack's shirt, pushing it back over his shoulders, scraping his nails across that broad, hard chest. Jack smiled and caught Archie's wrist, tight.
"You know what I want, boy," he commanded softly, and Archie knelt to give it to him.
Archie lay on the edge of sleep, Jack's arm heavy across him. Even in sleep, Jack possessed Archie. Archie snuggled closer under that proprietary arm. Jack fed him, clothed him, and gave him somewhere to sleep. Jack rarely let him out of his sight. Sometimes Jack pimped him, when money was scarce, but nothing really bad ever happened to him, because he was Jack's boy, and nobody wanted to mess with Jack's boy.
He felt Jack stir in his sleep against his back, the hand resting over him move, sliding upwards to find a nipple and pinch hard.
Archie's breathe came hard, instantly aroused. He moved, rolling over to allow Jack to pinch and squeeze both nipples, rubbing his hips against Jack, pressing up to kiss him, open mouthed, his tongue straining to please him, to beg him.
"You want it, don't you, you little whore," Jack taunted, voice rough, all too aware of Archie's eyes shining in the dark. "Tell me how bad you want it."
Archie ran his tongue over his lips. "I want you to fuck me, Jack. I want to feel you in me, deep and hard. I want you Jack. Make me yours."
Jack grinned. "You're already mine, Kennedy."
But he was already hard, too hard, and he pulled Kennedy open, watching the boy's face with satisfaction at the first heavy thrust.
Archie's pressed up, meeting Jack. His eyes opened and their eyes locked.
"Hard," he gasped. "Give it to me hard and fast, Jack, please…" he begged.
Jack grabbed the boy's hips hard, grunting, as he filled Archie, again and again until he felt Archie's seed splatter hotly against his skin, and he finished him in three powerful thrusts that pressed the boy deep into the bed.
Archie curled into Jack's arms, kissing him, thanking him. He closed his eyes, locked in those strong arms, his body still throbbing hotly. He was Jack's boy. Jack had found him, and kept him safe, and this was how he repaid him for his kindness. This was his life, and Archie could no longer imagine any other. He belonged to Jack, body and soul.