Word Count: 1,700
Summary: In retrospect, having a quickie outside the bar Alex picked most of his one-night-stands up in was always a bad idea.
“This isn’t going to work.”
“This isn’t going to work.”
“No, it’s not.” Surely he’d know best, shoved up against the wall with his jeans around one ankle, his other leg wrapped awkwardly around Alex’s lower back. “And if we get caught they’ll kill us!”
Alex snorted hot breath against his neck. “They won’t. Hold still.”
Milos grunted as Alex slowly pushed his cock into him, gripping the human’s shoulders hard to disguise his wince. Saliva still sucked, no pun intended, as a lubricant. He thought he’d gotten used to it once but the intervening years obviously hadn’t helped. “Can’t really do anything else,” he muttered, digging his fingers in and ignoring Alex’s smirk.
“Not so bad, see?” Alex murmured into his ear, gripping his raised leg with one hand and shifting it into what Milos assumed was a more comfortable position for him. It certainly wasn’t for him. Then Alex stopped, pulled back slightly and started to thrust into him and Milos sunk his fingers into Alex’s shoulders again; how he did it Milos didn’t know, but the payoff was always worth the discomfort.
“But it’d be easier,” he managed through gritted teeth, tilting his head back against the brickwork, “if I turned round...”
“And if you did that,” Alex grinned, “I couldn’t do this.”
Milos bit back a moan as Alex wrapped his free hand around Milos’s cock and began to stroke. “You could...” he tried, but half-heartedly; why bother arguing now? He was already losing against himself. “Why does it only feel good when you do it?”
“Because he’s had a lot of practice on himself,” an unfamiliar female voice snapped from one side.
Milos almost lost his balance in his surprise. The only thing that kept him upright was Alex’s fingers pressing into his raised leg, the other hand squeezing a brief flare of pain the length of his erection before letting go. “What the—?!”
He was cut off by Alex turning just enough to give the owner of the voice a cool glare. “Oh. It’s you.”
Except it was actually owners, he realised with a sinking heart as he glanced across as well: three women in various states of dress—undress? more cleavage and leg than he’d seen in years—side by side at the mouth of the alley. “You know them?” He paused, then sighed, shifting slightly to push Alex away. “Of course you know them.”
Alex’s grip tightened and he pushed him harder against the wall, still firmly buried inside him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Milos gaped. Pushing back didn’t help in the slightest when he literally only had one leg to stand on and, as he swallowed, bit his lip and glanced at the three women again, threatening him with claws was definitely out. “We got caught,” he hissed. “That makes it time to leave.”
Alex leaned forward, pressing his body against Milos’s, and whispered in his ear, “you’re not a whore any more. It’s public indecency at most.”
“It’s got nothing to do with that!” He tried to push him away again, with as much success as before, then froze as his brain finally caught up with the sensations coming from his lower body—the gentle shifting of Alex’s penis. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”
He smirked. “You clench when you’re nervous.”
“For fuck’s sake— We’ve got an audience!”
One of a women, a pretty brunette in a low-cut dress, let out a sharp laugh and rested her hands on her wide hips. “Don’t mind us, we just want to see if he’s as selfish with a man as he was with us.”
“I always thought he’d try it on with the men when the women got sick of him,” the blonde beside her stage-whispered, probably more loudly than if she’d shouted.
“I don’t know,” the first one retorted, “you could mistake him for a girl with all the hair he’s got...”
Alex wrapped his free fingers into Milos’s hair and gave it a hard tug. “I told you that you need a fucking haircut.”
Milos yelped and tried in frustration to jerk his leg from Alex’s hold, almost overbalancing in the opposite direction in the process. “For god’s sake, put me down!”
Glaring at him, Milos moved his hands to press against Alex’s chest, tapping his fingers just hard enough to try to remind him what they could do if only they weren’t being watched.
From the trio came another harsh laugh, this time from the previously silent second blonde at the end of the line, her hair glossy but with a flash of root colour that Milos was familiar enough with from his own experiences; time for another appointment with a packet and a sink. “You don’t know that he doesn’t listen to the people he fucks?” She snorted. “You better get used to it.”
“He doesn’t listen to me anyway—” His breath caught in his throat as Alex ignored his reminder and very deliberately thrust into him, his dark eyes all the while locked on the women. It hurt; not enough saliva, too much friction, but at the same time... “—Ahh fuck,” he gasped, clinging to his shirt.
The woman turned away from them in disgust, storming back out the alleyway, and Milos didn’t miss Alex’s smirk. Alex didn’t miss Milos’s realisation either; another thrust had the alfa choking back a second expletive, too distracted to follow up that line of thought. Too distracted to pay attention to how Alex’s remaining two conquests were both staring at his raised leg—although Alex himself seemed fully aware. “Is there something I can help you with, ladies?”
“Do you need any help there?” The brunette cooed, to the giggles of the blonde, and they both exchanged glances before returning hungry stares to Milos and Alex. “You’ve got nothing we haven’t seen before, and I always wanted to have an elf...”
Milos tensed, suddenly all too aware of his surroundings; Alex laughed. “You’ve got to be nervous more often,” he said, sotto voce. “Fuck that feels good.” Louder, he added, “you should fuck off, ladies—and I use the word loosely. You already put me off women, why do you want to make it worse?”
She finally dragged her eyes from the point where the two men’s bodies intersected, a deep red flush vivid even in the sodium glow of the street light, her mouth agape. Her expression would have been comical enough to make Milos laugh if Alex hadn’t calculated that moment as being prime for another lazy thrust. “You— You— Bastard!” She shouted, hands balled into fists at her sides. “You were the worst fuck I ever had and you dare—”
“Funny,” Alex drawled, adjusting his hold on the alfa’s thigh, “I seem to recall you were more than happy with me at the time. Must’ve been something you were doing.”
She glared at him for a moment or so longer, her mouth working to respond without any sound coming out, fists digging into her legs and creasing her dress. “Fuck you!” She spat finally, spinning on her skyscraper heel and stalking back onto the street, stomping like a bad-tempered carthorse as she went. The blonde’s wide eyes flicked from Alex to the floor, then back to Alex and finally over her shoulder before she tottered after her friend.
Milos was glad there’d be no pithy rejoinder from her; he ached. Home seemed like an even better idea than when Alex had first dragged him into the alley, his hands over his skin the only thing that kept him from bolting in the first place. Wincing at the pull and tug around his buttocks and where Alex was still embedded inside him, he raised his leg awkwardly from his grip. “Come on, let’s go.”
The leg was easily reclaimed; Milos wobbled precariously on his other, only his back braced against the wall stopping him from falling this time. “Go where?” Alex’s smirk returned. “Something wrong?”
Where to start? “Because you just pissed some woman off and she’ll probably go and tell someone what we’re doing? And,” he grimaced, fidgeting and then wishing he hadn’t, “you’re dry and I’m not getting back down on my knees now.”
Alex let out a derisive snort of amusement. “She’s just sour because I kicked her out in the middle of the night. She snores like a pig.” He paused, dropped one hand into his pocket. “Anyway, I’m still hard, you think I want to stop now?”
Milos kept his mouth shut over his opinion that it’d take a miracle for Alex to lose an erection. Except it proved quite hard to keep it shut when Alex leaned forward and reached around behind him. A slick, cold finger nudged around his entrance. “What the fuck?!”
Alex pulled out slightly, ignoring Milos’s pained noises, and did the same thing again. “What do you think I’m doing?” He pulled his arm back around and held his hand in front of Milos’s face, displaying the small tube of lube pressed between his ring and little fingers and palm.
“You...” Words almost failed him. Almost. “You had that all the time and you made me get down and... And...!”
He shrugged, using his thumb to flip the top closed again and shoving it back into his pocket. “What? I wanted you to suck me first.”
“You fucking—I can’t believe you!”
Alex grinned and wrapped his still lube-slick fingers around Milos’s cock again, and this time when he pressed into him there was no pulling, no pain. Just a lance of sensation that had him moaning and closing his eyes, arching his back and pressing his shoulders into the cold wall. “Still want me to stop?”
“Fucking bastard,” Milos mumbled, digging his fingers into Alex’s shoulders once more before dropping them first to his chest, then to his waist, the discomfort of his leg forgotten.
“And you like it.” Alex leaned forward until they were chest to chest and whispered the words, breath hot against his cheek.
Biting his lip to suppress a moan with only a small degree of success, Milos found he couldn’t disagree with him. He’d only be lying if he tried.