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Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > First Date

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• First Date

  (#) AxlsRocketQueen 2008-04-05

  Awesome I'm kinda curious that number now haha.

  Author's response

  That number's just a random one that I made up! I'd never use a real one. :D

• First Date

  (#) RockettQueeen 2008-04-06

  more more more!!! lol i'm getting soo into this one!! great job once again, i bow to you :)

  Author's response

  Thank you very much! xx

• First Date

  (#) punk73lover 2008-10-18

  I wake the next morning, feeling happy. It's like waking up after a really bad day to realise that life's actually not that bad. It's the first time I've felt like this in a while.
  
  I become aware of near silent panting and the bed shuddering. Rolling over, I'm greeted to the most beautiful sight. Izzy's lying flat on his back, eyes closed and head back, furiously stroking his cock. His panting changes to low moans and I can't resist lying for a moment and watching him. I smile as I wonder if he's thinking about me. It makes me blush to think that I might be in his dream, that he might be jacking off because of something I've done or said.
  
  I admire him for a moment, my own cock springing to life as he pulls his legs up to give himself better access. I slowly begin to stroke it as I reach over and wrap my free hand over Izzy's. His eyes spring open and meet mine, shocked at being caught. I give him a nervous smile and gently press my lips against his. I remove his hand as carefully as I can, not wanting to scare him. For a moment, he stares at me, nervous and a little worried. Again I smile, hoping that he'll understand, understand that I want to make him happy. His face begins to soften and he kisses me, snuggling close.
  
  "Please..." I whisper into his mouth.
  
  I watch as he smiles and asks, "What?"
  
  Bucking my hips, I rub my strained cock against him. As I do, he lets out a low moan and I'm treated to his hand wrapping around my erection and slowly pumping. I groan and tangle my legs with his and pull him close, wanting to feel him next to me.
  
  The room soon fills with our soft moans and sighs, each thrusting into the other's hand, fears melting away. Our lips and free hands gently touch, probe and stroke, memorising each other's bodies.
  
  I'm the first to let go, moaning Izzy's name into his mouth as I come in his hand. There was no way I could hold back any longer, his expert hands driving me to the edge, my semen covering his stomach. A moment later, Izzy follows me, clinging to me as he coats my hand and arm with his warm come. I blush as he cries my name, a little embarrassed. Although, deep down, I'm quite proud. I don't think I've ever given someone enough pleasure to yell my name. This time I don't pull away, instead gently rubbing his softening dick.
  
  He looks at me, eyes again wide with innocence and I run my clean hand through his hair as I move to kiss him. His eyes stay open, dark and bottomless, as I stare into them. I wonder what secrets they hide. Someone once said the eyes are the windows to the soul, but I'm having trouble seeing into Izzy's. Or maybe I've just not had enough practice. I've never really been motivated to find out someone's deepest, darkest secrets. Until now.
  
  With one last kiss, Izzy pulls away and wipes his hand on the blanket.
  
  "I have to pee," he whispers. "I'll be back in a moment."
  
  I smile and nod, intently watching as he gets up and dresses. My cock stirs a little as I watch his lithe body stretch. I want us to make love, want to be completely wrapped around him. But I have no idea how to ask him. Maybe he doesn't want that? Maybe he just wants someone make him feel good? Or maybe he needs someone to put him back together? I hope it's the latter, hope that he wants to take it slowly and build this until he feels safe enough to go further.
  
  He blows me a little kiss as he leaves, a tiny smile appearing from behind his hand. Smiling to myself I roll over and tuck my arms under the pillows. My hands brush over something and I pull out something flat and smooth.
  
  It's a photograph, crumpled with wear and age. It shows two boys, one a brunette, the other a red-head. The dark-haired one is obviously Izzy. The red-head is a slender, nearly the same build as Izzy. His arm is draped possessively over Izzy's shoulder, a smile on his face. Izzy just shyly smiles from beneath his hair, as if he's not bothered whether their picture is taken or not. I flip the photo to find scrawled handwriting across the back. Bill and Jeff. Summer of '78. Flicking it back over, I look again. I wonder if this is the ex? The one he ran away from?
  
  The door creaks open and I quickly push the photo back under the pillow. I look up and see a very pale Izzy walk in, a pissed off red-head following him. The red-head from the photo. Bill. He stops and stares down at me. I quickly grab the blanket, hiding my nakedness, suddenly feeling sick and nervous.
  
  "Who the fuck are you?" spits the red-head.
  
  I stammer, "Slash." I swallow hard and try and muster up some confidence. "I assume you're the ex?"
  
  Something akin to murder flashes through his eyes. "What the fuck has he been telling you?" He turns to glare at Izzy." What the fuck have you been saying?"
  
  Izzy stands defensively, arms crossed over his chest. "I can say whatever the fuck I want, Bill. You dumped me, remember? I went through shit because of what you did to me and now you're here acting like I fuckin' owe you something."
  
  I watch, shocked as Bill raises his hand to Izzy. In a flash, Izzy's cowering, eyes wide and terrified, as Bill's hand connects with his face.
  
  A little known rage courses through me as Izzy's head snaps to one side. Growling, I jump up from the bed and grab him, throwing him against a wall. Suddenly, I don't care that I'm naked. All I want is cold-blooded revenge.
  
  "Hit him and I'll fuckin' hit you!" I ball my hand into a fist and prepare to rain punches into the guy's face. "You don't fuckin' hit someone you love!"
  
  Instead, he just laughs in my face. "You want to fuck him?" He snorts. "He's a shit lay unless he's getting his cock wet."
  
  "How would you fuckin' know?" Izzy's voice pulls apart. "You always spread out for me."
  
  Bill wiggles out from under me and storms over to Izzy. Almost instinctively, Izzy steps back.
  
  "I heard stuff, Jeff. I heard how you tried to get it on with Mark Dean and when he tried to stick his dick in you, you ran for it."
  
  Izzy throws his hands in the air, exasperated. "He tried to rape me, Bill! He tried to rape me because you told the whole school I prefer cock! He wanted to give me a "taste of my own medicine" because you told everyone that I forced you into sleeping with me!"
  
  Bill sighs. "Whatever. I'm here now, so pack your shit. We need to move."
  
  "I'm not going anywhere." Izzy just glares at him.
  
  I stand there and watch. I want to step in and help but Izzy, despite the reddening mark on his cheek, seems to be holding his ground. Bill seems to ignore him as he starts grabbing Izzy's clothes, throwing them into the open suitcase.
  
  "Fuckin' stop it Bill!" Izzy kicks the suitcase out of his hands, sending it spinning across the floor. "I'm not some toy you can pick up and put down whenever you feel like it. I don't fuckin' want anything to do with you any more. Not after what you did to me."
  
  I swallow hard as Bill turns to look at him. There is nothing friendly or loving in his eyes. All he wants is control. He seems determined to get it as he grabs Izzy and throws him against a wall. I wince, desperate to help but not wanting to be on the end of the red-head's wrath.
  
  "You're mine Jeff," he growls into Izzy's face, shaking him with each word. "You always have been and you always will be. I don't care what happened in the fuckin' past. I've come to take you somewhere else." He glares over his shoulder at me. "Away from filthy niggers."
  
  Something in me snaps and I race across the room, grabbing a handful of that poker straight hair. Dragging him away from Izzy, I throw him to the floor before falling on him like a rabid animal. My fists pound into him as I yell, "Don't fuckin' call me that!"
  
  I don't know how long I sit on him, beating away at his perfect face before Izzy pulls me away. His arms wrap around me and he holds me close, obviously trying to calm me as I spit and kick, trying to finish what I've started.
  
  "Slash. Slash!" His hand gently strokes the side of my face, trying to soothe me. "Leave it. He's not worth it."
  
  "He needs to DIE!" I growl, turning to Izzy. "He doesn't fuckin' deserve anyone if he's going to be like that. Especially not you."
  
  My fingers gently stroke over the hand print on Izzy's cheek. It looks awful against his pale skin and I gently kiss it, wanting to make it go away. Izzy hisses in my ear, wincing slightly.
  
  Suddenly I'm dragged away from Izzy, hands pulling at my hair. Screaming with rage, I swing round to face off with the fucker.
  
  "Oh hell NO!" I lash out, hitting Bill square between the eyes.
  
  Like a rag doll, he crumples to the floor. I stand over him, modesty long forgotten as my face twists with rage.
  
  "If you want him, you can fight me for him," I hiss. "Izzy fuckin' deserves better than someone who's going to kick him around."
  
  Pressing a hand to his face, Bill looks up at me, anger and hate flashing across his face. His face is beginning to turn some lovely colours and his nose looks broken. But I have no remorse and no desire to help him.
  
  "You can fuckin' keep him for now," he hisses as he spits blood across the floor. He stands and glares me, cradling his face in a bruised hand. "But don't think I ain't coming back for him. He's mine and he'll fuckin' do as I tell him."
  
  I grab a fistful of that red hair and haul him towards the door. Dragging it open, I push him out into the hallway.
  
  "Get the fuck OUT AND STAY OUT!" I roar as I slam the door shut.
  
  I stumble against a wall and slide down it. Even though I threw most of the punches my whole body aches. My head hurts from where he fucking pulled my hair. The adrenaline's slowly draining out of my system and I feel sick. Izzy's in front of me, brushing the hair out of my face and taking a look at me.
  
  "That was fuckin' stupid." He doesn't look too happy. "Really, really fuckin' stupid."
  
  I wearily watch as he picks up a crumpled packet of cigarettes and takes one out, lighting it before putting it between my lips. I cough as the smoke floods my lungs.
  
  "I had to do it," I hoarsely reply. "If I didn't, he would have dragged you away from me." I reach out and stroke his face, watching my fingers graze over Bill's hand print. "I don't want you to go Izz."
  
  His eyes soften and he gently kisses my fingers. "I'm not going anywhere Slash. What Bill says and what Bill does are two completely different things. He would have threatened and screamed and punched, but he'd never have the guts to physically remove me." Izzy brushes the hair out of my eyes and gently kisses my forehead, a little smile on his face. "But thank you for what you did. No-one's ever stood up for me before."
  
  I hold the cigarette limply between my fingers, head falling forward against Izzy's. I can feel myself beginning to cry, tears prickling my eyes as I look into his eyes.
  
  "He said he's going to come back," I whisper.
  
  He gently kisses me, stroking my face.
  
  "We'll deal with that hurdle when we get to it," he quietly replies.
  

• First Date

  (#) punk73lover 2008-10-18

  I wake the next morning, feeling happy. It's like waking up after a really bad day to realise that life's actually not that bad. It's the first time I've felt like this in a while.
  
  I become aware of near silent panting and the bed shuddering. Rolling over, I'm greeted to the most beautiful sight. Izzy's lying flat on his back, eyes closed and head back, furiously stroking his cock. His panting changes to low moans and I can't resist lying for a moment and watching him. I smile as I wonder if he's thinking about me. It makes me blush to think that I might be in his dream, that he might be jacking off because of something I've done or said.
  
  I admire him for a moment, my own cock springing to life as he pulls his legs up to give himself better access. I slowly begin to stroke it as I reach over and wrap my free hand over Izzy's. His eyes spring open and meet mine, shocked at being caught. I give him a nervous smile and gently press my lips against his. I remove his hand as carefully as I can, not wanting to scare him. For a moment, he stares at me, nervous and a little worried. Again I smile, hoping that he'll understand, understand that I want to make him happy. His face begins to soften and he kisses me, snuggling close.
  
  "Please..." I whisper into his mouth.
  
  I watch as he smiles and asks, "What?"
  
  Bucking my hips, I rub my strained cock against him. As I do, he lets out a low moan and I'm treated to his hand wrapping around my erection and slowly pumping. I groan and tangle my legs with his and pull him close, wanting to feel him next to me.
  
  The room soon fills with our soft moans and sighs, each thrusting into the other's hand, fears melting away. Our lips and free hands gently touch, probe and stroke, memorising each other's bodies.
  
  I'm the first to let go, moaning Izzy's name into his mouth as I come in his hand. There was no way I could hold back any longer, his expert hands driving me to the edge, my semen covering his stomach. A moment later, Izzy follows me, clinging to me as he coats my hand and arm with his warm come. I blush as he cries my name, a little embarrassed. Although, deep down, I'm quite proud. I don't think I've ever given someone enough pleasure to yell my name. This time I don't pull away, instead gently rubbing his softening dick.
  
  He looks at me, eyes again wide with innocence and I run my clean hand through his hair as I move to kiss him. His eyes stay open, dark and bottomless, as I stare into them. I wonder what secrets they hide. Someone once said the eyes are the windows to the soul, but I'm having trouble seeing into Izzy's. Or maybe I've just not had enough practice. I've never really been motivated to find out someone's deepest, darkest secrets. Until now.
  
  With one last kiss, Izzy pulls away and wipes his hand on the blanket.
  
  "I have to pee," he whispers. "I'll be back in a moment."
  
  I smile and nod, intently watching as he gets up and dresses. My cock stirs a little as I watch his lithe body stretch. I want us to make love, want to be completely wrapped around him. But I have no idea how to ask him. Maybe he doesn't want that? Maybe he just wants someone make him feel good? Or maybe he needs someone to put him back together? I hope it's the latter, hope that he wants to take it slowly and build this until he feels safe enough to go further.
  
  He blows me a little kiss as he leaves, a tiny smile appearing from behind his hand. Smiling to myself I roll over and tuck my arms under the pillows. My hands brush over something and I pull out something flat and smooth.
  
  It's a photograph, crumpled with wear and age. It shows two boys, one a brunette, the other a red-head. The dark-haired one is obviously Izzy. The red-head is a slender, nearly the same build as Izzy. His arm is draped possessively over Izzy's shoulder, a smile on his face. Izzy just shyly smiles from beneath his hair, as if he's not bothered whether their picture is taken or not. I flip the photo to find scrawled handwriting across the back. Bill and Jeff. Summer of '78. Flicking it back over, I look again. I wonder if this is the ex? The one he ran away from?
  
  The door creaks open and I quickly push the photo back under the pillow. I look up and see a very pale Izzy walk in, a pissed off red-head following him. The red-head from the photo. Bill. He stops and stares down at me. I quickly grab the blanket, hiding my nakedness, suddenly feeling sick and nervous.
  
  "Who the fuck are you?" spits the red-head.
  
  I stammer, "Slash." I swallow hard and try and muster up some confidence. "I assume you're the ex?"
  
  Something akin to murder flashes through his eyes. "What the fuck has he been telling you?" He turns to glare at Izzy." What the fuck have you been saying?"
  
  Izzy stands defensively, arms crossed over his chest. "I can say whatever the fuck I want, Bill. You dumped me, remember? I went through shit because of what you did to me and now you're here acting like I fuckin' owe you something."
  
  I watch, shocked as Bill raises his hand to Izzy. In a flash, Izzy's cowering, eyes wide and terrified, as Bill's hand connects with his face.
  
  A little known rage courses through me as Izzy's head snaps to one side. Growling, I jump up from the bed and grab him, throwing him against a wall. Suddenly, I don't care that I'm naked. All I want is cold-blooded revenge.
  
  "Hit him and I'll fuckin' hit you!" I ball my hand into a fist and prepare to rain punches into the guy's face. "You don't fuckin' hit someone you love!"
  
  Instead, he just laughs in my face. "You want to fuck him?" He snorts. "He's a shit lay unless he's getting his cock wet."
  
  "How would you fuckin' know?" Izzy's voice pulls apart. "You always spread out for me."
  
  Bill wiggles out from under me and storms over to Izzy. Almost instinctively, Izzy steps back.
  
  "I heard stuff, Jeff. I heard how you tried to get it on with Mark Dean and when he tried to stick his dick in you, you ran for it."
  
  Izzy throws his hands in the air, exasperated. "He tried to rape me, Bill! He tried to rape me because you told the whole school I prefer cock! He wanted to give me a "taste of my own medicine" because you told everyone that I forced you into sleeping with me!"
  
  Bill sighs. "Whatever. I'm here now, so pack your shit. We need to move."
  
  "I'm not going anywhere." Izzy just glares at him.
  
  I stand there and watch. I want to step in and help but Izzy, despite the reddening mark on his cheek, seems to be holding his ground. Bill seems to ignore him as he starts grabbing Izzy's clothes, throwing them into the open suitcase.
  
  "Fuckin' stop it Bill!" Izzy kicks the suitcase out of his hands, sending it spinning across the floor. "I'm not some toy you can pick up and put down whenever you feel like it. I don't fuckin' want anything to do with you any more. Not after what you did to me."
  
  I swallow hard as Bill turns to look at him. There is nothing friendly or loving in his eyes. All he wants is control. He seems determined to get it as he grabs Izzy and throws him against a wall. I wince, desperate to help but not wanting to be on the end of the red-head's wrath.
  
  "You're mine Jeff," he growls into Izzy's face, shaking him with each word. "You always have been and you always will be. I don't care what happened in the fuckin' past. I've come to take you somewhere else." He glares over his shoulder at me. "Away from filthy niggers."
  
  Something in me snaps and I race across the room, grabbing a handful of that poker straight hair. Dragging him away from Izzy, I throw him to the floor before falling on him like a rabid animal. My fists pound into him as I yell, "Don't fuckin' call me that!"
  
  I don't know how long I sit on him, beating away at his perfect face before Izzy pulls me away. His arms wrap around me and he holds me close, obviously trying to calm me as I spit and kick, trying to finish what I've started.
  
  "Slash. Slash!" His hand gently strokes the side of my face, trying to soothe me. "Leave it. He's not worth it."
  
  "He needs to DIE!" I growl, turning to Izzy. "He doesn't fuckin' deserve anyone if he's going to be like that. Especially not you."
  
  My fingers gently stroke over the hand print on Izzy's cheek. It looks awful against his pale skin and I gently kiss it, wanting to make it go away. Izzy hisses in my ear, wincing slightly.
  
  Suddenly I'm dragged away from Izzy, hands pulling at my hair. Screaming with rage, I swing round to face off with the fucker.
  
  "Oh hell NO!" I lash out, hitting Bill square between the eyes.
  
  Like a rag doll, he crumples to the floor. I stand over him, modesty long forgotten as my face twists with rage.
  
  "If you want him, you can fight me for him," I hiss. "Izzy fuckin' deserves better than someone who's going to kick him around."
  
  Pressing a hand to his face, Bill looks up at me, anger and hate flashing across his face. His face is beginning to turn some lovely colours and his nose looks broken. But I have no remorse and no desire to help him.
  
  "You can fuckin' keep him for now," he hisses as he spits blood across the floor. He stands and glares me, cradling his face in a bruised hand. "But don't think I ain't coming back for him. He's mine and he'll fuckin' do as I tell him."
  
  I grab a fistful of that red hair and haul him towards the door. Dragging it open, I push him out into the hallway.
  
  "Get the fuck OUT AND STAY OUT!" I roar as I slam the door shut.
  
  I stumble against a wall and slide down it. Even though I threw most of the punches my whole body aches. My head hurts from where he fucking pulled my hair. The adrenaline's slowly draining out of my system and I feel sick. Izzy's in front of me, brushing the hair out of my face and taking a look at me.
  
  "That was fuckin' stupid." He doesn't look too happy. "Really, really fuckin' stupid."
  
  I wearily watch as he picks up a crumpled packet of cigarettes and takes one out, lighting it before putting it between my lips. I cough as the smoke floods my lungs.
  
  "I had to do it," I hoarsely reply. "If I didn't, he would have dragged you away from me." I reach out and stroke his face, watching my fingers graze over Bill's hand print. "I don't want you to go Izz."
  
  His eyes soften and he gently kisses my fingers. "I'm not going anywhere Slash. What Bill says and what Bill does are two completely different things. He would have threatened and screamed and punched, but he'd never have the guts to physically remove me." Izzy brushes the hair out of my eyes and gently kisses my forehead, a little smile on his face. "But thank you for what you did. No-one's ever stood up for me before."
  
  I hold the cigarette limply between my fingers, head falling forward against Izzy's. I can feel myself beginning to cry, tears prickling my eyes as I look into his eyes.
  
  "He said he's going to come back," I whisper.
  
  He gently kisses me, stroking my face.
  
  "We'll deal with that hurdle when we get to it," he quietly replies.
  

• First Date

  (#) punk73lover 2008-10-18

  I wake the next morning, feeling happy. It's like waking up after a really bad day to realise that life's actually not that bad. It's the first time I've felt like this in a while.
  
  I become aware of near silent panting and the bed shuddering. Rolling over, I'm greeted to the most beautiful sight. Izzy's lying flat on his back, eyes closed and head back, furiously stroking his cock. His panting changes to low moans and I can't resist lying for a moment and watching him. I smile as I wonder if he's thinking about me. It makes me blush to think that I might be in his dream, that he might be jacking off because of something I've done or said.
  
  I admire him for a moment, my own cock springing to life as he pulls his legs up to give himself better access. I slowly begin to stroke it as I reach over and wrap my free hand over Izzy's. His eyes spring open and meet mine, shocked at being caught. I give him a nervous smile and gently press my lips against his. I remove his hand as carefully as I can, not wanting to scare him. For a moment, he stares at me, nervous and a little worried. Again I smile, hoping that he'll understand, understand that I want to make him happy. His face begins to soften and he kisses me, snuggling close.
  
  "Please..." I whisper into his mouth.
  
  I watch as he smiles and asks, "What?"
  
  Bucking my hips, I rub my strained cock against him. As I do, he lets out a low moan and I'm treated to his hand wrapping around my erection and slowly pumping. I groan and tangle my legs with his and pull him close, wanting to feel him next to me.
  
  The room soon fills with our soft moans and sighs, each thrusting into the other's hand, fears melting away. Our lips and free hands gently touch, probe and stroke, memorising each other's bodies.
  
  I'm the first to let go, moaning Izzy's name into his mouth as I come in his hand. There was no way I could hold back any longer, his expert hands driving me to the edge, my semen covering his stomach. A moment later, Izzy follows me, clinging to me as he coats my hand and arm with his warm come. I blush as he cries my name, a little embarrassed. Although, deep down, I'm quite proud. I don't think I've ever given someone enough pleasure to yell my name. This time I don't pull away, instead gently rubbing his softening dick.
  
  He looks at me, eyes again wide with innocence and I run my clean hand through his hair as I move to kiss him. His eyes stay open, dark and bottomless, as I stare into them. I wonder what secrets they hide. Someone once said the eyes are the windows to the soul, but I'm having trouble seeing into Izzy's. Or maybe I've just not had enough practice. I've never really been motivated to find out someone's deepest, darkest secrets. Until now.
  
  With one last kiss, Izzy pulls away and wipes his hand on the blanket.
  
  "I have to pee," he whispers. "I'll be back in a moment."
  
  I smile and nod, intently watching as he gets up and dresses. My cock stirs a little as I watch his lithe body stretch. I want us to make love, want to be completely wrapped around him. But I have no idea how to ask him. Maybe he doesn't want that? Maybe he just wants someone make him feel good? Or maybe he needs someone to put him back together? I hope it's the latter, hope that he wants to take it slowly and build this until he feels safe enough to go further.
  
  He blows me a little kiss as he leaves, a tiny smile appearing from behind his hand. Smiling to myself I roll over and tuck my arms under the pillows. My hands brush over something and I pull out something flat and smooth.
  
  It's a photograph, crumpled with wear and age. It shows two boys, one a brunette, the other a red-head. The dark-haired one is obviously Izzy. The red-head is a slender, nearly the same build as Izzy. His arm is draped possessively over Izzy's shoulder, a smile on his face. Izzy just shyly smiles from beneath his hair, as if he's not bothered whether their picture is taken or not. I flip the photo to find scrawled handwriting across the back. Bill and Jeff. Summer of '78. Flicking it back over, I look again. I wonder if this is the ex? The one he ran away from?
  
  The door creaks open and I quickly push the photo back under the pillow. I look up and see a very pale Izzy walk in, a pissed off red-head following him. The red-head from the photo. Bill. He stops and stares down at me. I quickly grab the blanket, hiding my nakedness, suddenly feeling sick and nervous.
  
  "Who the fuck are you?" spits the red-head.
  
  I stammer, "Slash." I swallow hard and try and muster up some confidence. "I assume you're the ex?"
  
  Something akin to murder flashes through his eyes. "What the fuck has he been telling you?" He turns to glare at Izzy." What the fuck have you been saying?"
  
  Izzy stands defensively, arms crossed over his chest. "I can say whatever the fuck I want, Bill. You dumped me, remember? I went through shit because of what you did to me and now you're here acting like I fuckin' owe you something."
  
  I watch, shocked as Bill raises his hand to Izzy. In a flash, Izzy's cowering, eyes wide and terrified, as Bill's hand connects with his face.
  
  A little known rage courses through me as Izzy's head snaps to one side. Growling, I jump up from the bed and grab him, throwing him against a wall. Suddenly, I don't care that I'm naked. All I want is cold-blooded revenge.
  
  "Hit him and I'll fuckin' hit you!" I ball my hand into a fist and prepare to rain punches into the guy's face. "You don't fuckin' hit someone you love!"
  
  Instead, he just laughs in my face. "You want to fuck him?" He snorts. "He's a shit lay unless he's getting his cock wet."
  
  "How would you fuckin' know?" Izzy's voice pulls apart. "You always spread out for me."
  
  Bill wiggles out from under me and storms over to Izzy. Almost instinctively, Izzy steps back.
  
  "I heard stuff, Jeff. I heard how you tried to get it on with Mark Dean and when he tried to stick his dick in you, you ran for it."
  
  Izzy throws his hands in the air, exasperated. "He tried to rape me, Bill! He tried to rape me because you told the whole school I prefer cock! He wanted to give me a "taste of my own medicine" because you told everyone that I forced you into sleeping with me!"
  
  Bill sighs. "Whatever. I'm here now, so pack your shit. We need to move."
  
  "I'm not going anywhere." Izzy just glares at him.
  
  I stand there and watch. I want to step in and help but Izzy, despite the reddening mark on his cheek, seems to be holding his ground. Bill seems to ignore him as he starts grabbing Izzy's clothes, throwing them into the open suitcase.
  
  "Fuckin' stop it Bill!" Izzy kicks the suitcase out of his hands, sending it spinning across the floor. "I'm not some toy you can pick up and put down whenever you feel like it. I don't fuckin' want anything to do with you any more. Not after what you did to me."
  
  I swallow hard as Bill turns to look at him. There is nothing friendly or loving in his eyes. All he wants is control. He seems determined to get it as he grabs Izzy and throws him against a wall. I wince, desperate to help but not wanting to be on the end of the red-head's wrath.
  
  "You're mine Jeff,"

• First Date

  (#) punk73lover 2008-10-18

  I wake the next morning, feeling happy. It's like waking up after a really bad day to realise that life's actually not that bad. It's the first time I've felt like this in a while.
  
  I become aware of near silent panting and the bed shuddering. Rolling over, I'm greeted to the most beautiful sight. Izzy's lying flat on his back, eyes closed and head back, furiously stroking his cock. His panting changes to low moans and I can't resist lying for a moment and watching him. I smile as I wonder if he's thinking about me. It makes me blush to think that I might be in his dream, that he might be jacking off because of something I've done or said.
  
  I admire him for a moment, my own cock springing to life as he pulls his legs up to give himself better access. I slowly begin to stroke it as I reach over and wrap my free hand over Izzy's. His eyes spring open and meet mine, shocked at being caught. I give him a nervous smile and gently press my lips against his. I remove his hand as carefully as I can, not wanting to scare him. For a moment, he stares at me, nervous and a little worried. Again I smile, hoping that he'll understand, understand that I want to make him happy. His face begins to soften and he kisses me, snuggling close.
  
  "Please..." I whisper into his mouth.
  
  I watch as he smiles and asks, "What?"
  
  Bucking my hips, I rub my strained cock against him. As I do, he lets out a low moan and I'm treated to his hand wrapping around my erection and slowly pumping. I groan and tangle my legs with his and pull him close, wanting to feel him next to me.
  
  The room soon fills with our soft moans and sighs, each thrusting into the other's hand, fears melting away. Our lips and free hands gently touch, probe and stroke, memorising each other's bodies.
  
  I'm the first to let go, moaning Izzy's name into his mouth as I come in his hand. There was no way I could hold back any longer, his expert hands driving me to the edge, my semen covering his stomach. A moment later, Izzy follows me, clinging to me as he coats my hand and arm with his warm come. I blush as he cries my name, a little embarrassed. Although, deep down, I'm quite proud. I don't think I've ever given someone enough pleasure to yell my name. This time I don't pull away, instead gently rubbing his softening dick.
  
  He looks at me, eyes again wide with innocence and I run my clean hand through his hair as I move to kiss him. His eyes stay open, dark and bottomless, as I stare into them. I wonder what secrets they hide. Someone once said the eyes are the windows to the soul, but I'm having trouble seeing into Izzy's. Or maybe I've just not had enough practice. I've never really been motivated to find out someone's deepest, darkest secrets. Until now.
  
  With one last kiss, Izzy pulls away and wipes his hand on the blanket.
  
  "I have to pee," he whispers. "I'll be back in a moment."
  
  I smile and nod, intently watching as he gets up and dresses. My cock stirs a little as I watch his lithe body stretch. I want us to make love, want to be completely wrapped around him. But I have no idea how to ask him. Maybe he doesn't want that? Maybe he just wants someone make him feel good? Or maybe he needs someone to put him back together? I hope it's the latter, hope that he wants to take it slowly and build this until he feels safe enough to go further.
  
  He blows me a little kiss as he leaves, a tiny smile appearing from behind his hand. Smiling to myself I roll over and tuck my arms under the pillows. My hands brush over something and I pull out something flat and smooth.
  
  It's a photograph, crumpled with wear and age. It shows two boys, one a brunette, the other a red-head. The dark-haired one is obviously Izzy. The red-head is a slender, nearly the same build as Izzy. His arm is draped possessively over Izzy's shoulder, a smile on his face. Izzy just shyly smiles from beneath his hair, as if he's not bothered whether their picture is taken or not. I flip the photo to find scrawled handwriting across the back. Bill and Jeff. Summer of '78. Flicking it back over, I look again. I wonder if this is the ex? The one he ran away from?
  
  The door creaks open and I quickly push the photo back under the pillow. I look up and see a very pale Izzy walk in, a pissed off red-head following him. The red-head from the photo. Bill. He stops and stares down at me. I quickly grab the blanket, hiding my nakedness, suddenly feeling sick and nervous.
  
  "Who the fuck are you?" spits the red-head.
  
  I stammer, "Slash." I swallow hard and try and muster up some confidence. "I assume you're the ex?"
  
  Something akin to murder flashes through his eyes. "What the fuck has he been telling you?" He turns to glare at Izzy." What the fuck have you been saying?"
  
  Izzy stands defensively, arms crossed over his chest. "I can say whatever the fuck I want, Bill. You dumped me, remember? I went through shit because of what you did to me and now you're here acting like I fuckin' owe you something."
  
  I watch, shocked as Bill raises his hand to Izzy. In a flash, Izzy's cowering, eyes wide and terrified, as Bill's hand connects with his face.
  
  A little known rage courses through me as Izzy's head snaps to one side. Growling, I jump up from the bed and grab him, throwing him against a wall. Suddenly, I don't care that I'm naked. All I want is cold-blooded revenge.
  
  "Hit him and I'll fuckin' hit you!" I ball my hand into a fist and prepare to rain punches into the guy's face. "You don't fuckin' hit someone you love!"
  
  Instead, he just laughs in my face. "You want to fuck him?" He snorts. "He's a shit lay unless he's getting his cock wet."
  
  "How would you fuckin' know?" Izzy's voice pulls apart. "You always spread out for me."
  
  Bill wiggles out from under me and storms over to Izzy. Almost instinctively, Izzy steps back.
  
  "I heard stuff, Jeff. I heard how you tried to get it on with Mark Dean and when he tried to stick his dick in you, you ran for it."
  
  Izzy throws his hands in the air, exasperated. "He tried to rape me, Bill! He tried to rape me because you told the whole school I prefer cock! He wanted to give me a "taste of my own medicine" because you told everyone that I forced you into sleeping with me!"
  
  Bill sighs. "Whatever. I'm here now, so pack your shit. We need to move."
  
  "I'm not going anywhere." Izzy just glares at him.
  
  I stand there and watch. I want to step in and help but Izzy, despite the reddening mark on his cheek, seems to be holding his ground. Bill seems to ignore him as he starts grabbing Izzy's clothes, throwing them into the open suitcase.
  
  "Fuckin' stop it Bill!" Izzy kicks the suitcase out of his hands, sending it spinning across the floor. "I'm not some toy you can pick up and put down whenever you feel like it. I don't fuckin' want anything to do with you any more. Not after what you did to me."
  
  I swallow hard as Bill turns to look at him. There is nothing friendly or loving in his eyes. All he wants is control. He seems determined to get it as he grabs Izzy and throws him against a wall. I wince, desperate to help but not wanting to be on the end of the red-head's wrath.
  
  "You're mine Jeff," he growls into Izzy's face, shaking him with each word. "You always have been and you always will be. I don't care what happened in the fuckin' past. I've come to take you somewhere else." He glares over his shoulder at me. "Away from filthy niggers."
  
  Something in me snaps and I race across the room, grabbing a handful of that poker straight hair. Dragging him away from Izzy, I throw him to the floor before falling on him like a rabid animal. My fists pound into him as I yell, "Don't fuckin' call me that!"
  
  I don't know how long I sit on him, beating away at his perfect face before Izzy pulls me away. His arms wrap around me and he holds me close, obviously trying to calm me as I spit and kick, trying to finish what I've started.
  
  "Slash. Slash!" His hand gently strokes the side of my face, trying to soothe me. "Leave it. He's not worth it."
  
  "He needs to DIE!" I growl, turning to Izzy. "He doesn't fuckin' deserve anyone if he's going to be like that. Especially not you."
  
  My fingers gently stroke over the hand print on Izzy's cheek. It looks awful against his pale skin and I gently kiss it, wanting to make it go away. Izzy hisses in my ear, wincing slightly.
  
  Suddenly I'm dragged away from Izzy, hands pulling at my hair. Screaming with rage, I swing round to face off with the fucker.
  
  "Oh hell NO!" I lash out, hitting Bill square between the eyes.
  
  Like a rag doll, he crumples to the floor. I stand over him, modesty long forgotten as my face twists with rage.
  
  "If you want him, you can fight me for him," I hiss. "Izzy fuckin' deserves better than someone who's going to kick him around."
  
  Pressing a hand to his face, Bill looks up at me, anger and hate flashing across his face. His face is beginning to turn some lovely colours and his nose looks broken. But I have no remorse and no desire to help him.
  
  "You can fuckin' keep him for now," he hisses as he spits blood across the floor. He stands and glares me, cradling his face in a bruised hand. "But don't think I ain't coming back for him. He's mine and he'll fuckin' do as I tell him."
  
  I grab a fistful of that red hair and haul him towards the door. Dragging it open, I push him out into the hallway.
  
  "Get the fuck OUT AND STAY OUT!" I roar as I slam the door shut.
  
  I stumble against a wall and slide down it. Even though I threw most of the punches my whole body aches. My head hurts from where he fucking pulled my hair. The adrenaline's slowly draining out of my system and I feel sick. Izzy's in front of me, brushing the hair out of my face and taking a look at me.
  
  "That was fuckin' stupid." He doesn't look too happy. "Really, really fuckin' stupid."
  
  I wearily watch as he picks up a crumpled packet of cigarettes and takes one out, lighting it before putting it between my lips. I cough as the smoke floods my lungs.
  
  "I had to do it," I hoarsely reply. "If I didn't, he would have dragged you away from me." I reach out and stroke his face, watching my fingers graze over Bill's hand print. "I don't want you to go Izz."
  
  His eyes soften and he gently kisses my fingers. "I'm not going anywhere Slash. What Bill says and what Bill does are two completely different things. He would have threatened and screamed and punched, but he'd never have the guts to physically remove me." Izzy brushes the hair out of my eyes and gently kisses my forehead, a little smile on his face. "But thank you for what you did. No-one's ever stood up for me before."
  
  I hold the cigarette limply between my fingers, head falling forward against Izzy's. I can feel myself beginning to cry, tears prickling my eyes as I look into his eyes.
  
  "He said he's going to come back," I whisper.
  
  He gently kisses me, stroking my face.
  
  "We'll deal with that hurdle when we get to it," he quietly replies.
  

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