Up Against the Wall

Author: Bitterfig

Fandom: Reservoir Dogs

Title:  Up Against the Wall

Pairing: Mr. Orange/Mr. White

Rating: R

Warnings: Slash, language, sex.

Word Count: 1240

Author’s Notes:  Written for the wallsmut challenge.

Up Against the Wall

When Freddy kissed Mr. White (also known as Larry Dimick also known as a rat bastard fucking criminal and maybe a cop killer), he crossed a line.  An ethical line.  A moral line.  The line between good police work and the kind of wacked-out, total-immersion method acting that made Marlon Brando such a scary guy.  The line between what he would allow himself to do and what he’d always wanted to do. 

            Having crossed that line, Freddy—or Orange or whoever he was-- wanted to see how far he could go. 

He’d spent the last two nights with White…  on White… under White.  His nerves were so raw, so taut, the slightest touch made him moan and jerk and beg for mercy.  The fear mingling with excitement was like a drug.  He wanted, needed to go further.  Push Larry further.

            On the last night, the night before the heist, he was feeling a little crazy.  He’d been in his apartment earlier that day.   His phone had rung; he’d picked it up. 

            “Is this Newandyke?” a man’s voice had demanded.

            “Huh?”  Orange hadn’t known what he was talking about.

            “Is this Freddy?  Freddy Newandyke.”

            “What?”

            Then he remembered--he was Freddy Newandyke.  He was a police officer and he hadn’t checked in that day because he’d probably been spread out on the backseat of Lawrence Dimick’s car, digging his fingernails into the vinyl upholstery while a guy, who was at best a thief and at worst a cop killer, sucked him off. 

            Definitely feeling a little crazy. 

            He brought White to his apartment... with two weeks of cereal bowls stacked in the sink and Silver Surfer on the wall.  Let them call for Freddy Newandyke.  He wasn’t planning on picking up the phone.  He didn’t even care if the apartment was being watched.  Everyone in the department was going to find out he’d been putting out for a criminal--if not that night, the next day.  The minute White was arrested. 

            Not that White would talk, but you’d have to be blind not to see it in his eyes.  The guy was cool, tough, professional but Orange could see everything in his eyes.  White was scum in a lot of ways, but he was a hundred times more honest than Orange could ever be.  White was romantic, deception and games weren’t his thing. 

            Orange, on the other hand, was lost without them.

            He put the key in the lock of his apartment door, then turned to White.

            “You know how you were telling me earlier about how your last job got fucked up cuz there was an undercover cop on the team?” he said.

            “Yeah, what about it?” White asked.

            “What if that happened again?” Orange said drawing close to the other man, whispering in his ear.  “What if it was me, Larry?  What would you do to me?” 

            “Don’t even joke about shit like that, kid,” White said sternly.  Orange’s mouth was on his ear, teeth and tongue.  White kissed him deep and hard, arms encircling Orange’s waist under his leather jacket. 

            “What would you do to me, Larry?”

            “I know you’re not a cop, kid,” White chuckled.  “Cops don’t take it up the ass.”

            Slam.

            Orange shoved him forward into the cement block wall of the corridor.

            “Up against the wall and spread ‘um,” he commanded.  His voice had taken on a weird note of authority that made White cringe.

            “I don’t want to play this game,” White warned him.  Orange started patting him down.  “I’m serious, stop it.  That feels a little too authentic.” 

            “Yeah?  How about now?”  Orange’s probing hands went to his crotch, rubbing against his cock.  White groaned with pleasure.  Orange unfastened his belt sliding one hand down White’s pants.  With the other, he clenched White’s hands together behind his back.  White jumped. 

            “What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled struggling against Orange’s hold.  He was strong, pure muscle.  He broke free, pivoting and smashing Orange across the mouth with his fist.  “You crazy motherfucker, what in hell do you think you’re doing?  You do time and see if you want to use it as foreplay.” 

            Orange was turned away from him, stooped from the blow.  White relented almost at once.

            “Hey, I’m sorry, kid,” he said placing his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?  You were freaking me out there.”  Orange spun around, facing him.  There was blood on his mouth, but he was smirking and his eyes had a weird, glittery sheen to them.  “Oh shit, you’re not going to let this go, are you?

            Orange lunged for him.  White managed to side step him and pushed Orange against the wall, pinning his wrists.  Orange struggled furiously but White managed to keep a hold.   

            “What are you gonna do to me, Larry?” Orange asked again, gasping for breath.  They were facing each other, pressed up against each other.  Orange started grinding his hips against White, rubbing their hard cocks into each other.  White kissed him. 

            “You crazy little fucker,” White managed between kisses.  “You know what I’m gonna do to you?  I’m gonna fuck your brains out.”  Orange smirked again, thrusting against White’s thighs.  White let go of his wrists, fumbling to unzip his pants without breaking contact with Orange’s grinding pelvis. 

            He turned Orange around, pressing him face-first against the wall.

            “Take your pants down,” he ordered pushing his cock against Orange’s ass.  He put a hand over Orange’s mouth.  “Get it ready,” he commanded.  Orange started licking White’s fingers, sucking on them, getting them wet.  His pants slid down; White rubbed his cock against Orange’s naked ass, pressing between his legs. 

            He took his hand from Orange’s mouth, pushed one slick finger into the tight ring of the younger man’s sphincter.  Orange gasped, jerking.  White hesitated.

            “You okay?” he asked.

            “Keep going,” Orange hissed between clenched teeth.  Larry kept going, sliding in two more fingers, fucking the kid with one hand while his other stroked Orange’s cock.  Orange was thrashing, whimpering.  White slid his fingers out, slowly sunk his cock into Orange whose moans bordered on screams.

            White began thrusting.  “Harder,” Orange gasped.  “Pound me into the fucking wall.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, kid,” White protested, but he was driven by his own needs now and he was going faster, pounding harder.  Orange stiffened, shaking as he came in White’s hands.

After that, White couldn’t hold back.  He was scarcely aware of Orange’s urging or he would have wondered what he meant when he said, “You’ll never hurt me the way I’m going to hurt you.”

Arms clasped around Orange’s chest, White came with a cry.  He slumped across Orange’s back, cock still inside him and rested there for moment, just a moment--until he realized where they were. 

The key was still in the doorknob.  White unlocked the door and dragged them both into Orange’s darkened apartment.  He tripped over something, pitching both of them onto the floor, then managed to get to his feet, switch on a light, kick the door shut. 

“Holy fuck,” White panted.  “We were right out in the hallway.  Anybody could have seen that.”  He turned on Orange.  “What the fuck were we doing?  What the fuck were you playing at?”

Orange was looking up at White; his usually heavily hooded, pale blue eyes open startlingly wide.  He looked innocent, dazed. 

“Never mind,” White said.  He sat down beside Orange and took him in his arms, stroking his hair tenderly.  “Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter.”