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Lord of War

By: Jackee
folder G through L › Lords of War
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 1
Views: 1,431
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Disclaimer: I do not own the movie that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Lord of War

Title: Untitled
Author: Psylocke
Rating: Adult / NC-17
Pairing: Andre Baptiste Jr/Vitaly Orlov
Summary: PWP. Yuri is selling weapons to Baptiste, whose son can’t take his eyes off of Yuri’s younger brother – but not only because he doesn’t trust him.
Warnings: MOVIE SPOILERS! Non-consensual m/m sex, Character death
Disclaimer: If LoW was mine, I would have allowed Jared Leto to wear that black dress he'd brought along... So no, I don’t own the rights to the movie Lord of War nor the characters, not making any profits of this.
(yup, this is the kind of stuff that comes to mind when watching movies. It's like an uncurable disease, i need my gay porn damnit!)
Movie info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0399295/

http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c138/Psylocke83/lordofwar.jpg - Vitaly & Andre

The sun was high and shining brightly in the cloudless sky, heating the earth up. Vitaly wrinkled his nose as the warm winds blew sand into his face from the desert nearby. He didn’t want to be there. As soon as he’d set his foot on Liberian ground, the nagging feeling in his gut that he’d had during the entire flight, of dread and that something would go horribly wrong, made itself impossible to ignore. He lit a cigarette and tried to calm down as he glanced over at his older brother. Yuri had asked him to come along. He had looked at him with pleading eyes, telling him that he couldn’t trust anybody, that he needed Vitaly to guard his back. Yuri had never done anything like that before. He wasn’t a man that pleaded or feared much for his own life; he seemed to be in total control of the situation all the time.

Perhaps that was why Vitaly had agreed to accompany him.

He looked around the small Monrovian airport. Their cargo was being unloaded from the plane and loaded into trucks. Yet there were no sign of the buyers. Yuri sensed his unease and put a hand on his shoulder.

“They’ll be here soon. They’ll take the goods and we’ll be on our way home with our pockets filled with diamonds.”

“Blood diamonds”, Vitaly muttered under his breath as he threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot before lighting a new one.

“Those will kill you.”

“So can your guns.”

It was said with a small, uncaring shrug as Vitaly turned to walk a few steps towards the plane before turning and heading back towards his brother, then repeating the process. Despite his restless appearances, he kept his sharp eyes open, not really trusting the loaders to keep from shooting down the both of them. He smirked at the thought and scratched the back of his head; he’d become quite paranoid after all the years since he last had joined Yuri on his business trips. Perhaps he was starting to get old.

It only took less than five minutes and two additional cigarettes before they heard a car approach. Andre Baptiste and his son stepped out of the vehicle and made their way towards the Orlov brothers.

“Yuri, welcome back”, Baptiste Sr greeted as he shook his hand before turning his eyes to Vitaly. “Welcome, the both of you.”

Vitaly managed a polite but strained smile before looking at Baptiste Jr, whom had moved to stand in front of him, bringing the fingers of his right hand up to his lips as he studied the American. As Baptiste Sr and Yuri started to talk, Vitaly noticed that Baptiste Jr had yet to take his eyes off of him. He glanced over at the armed guards and listened to Yuri's conversation with one ear but the tall African’s constant stare behind those sunglasses un-nerved him.

*

Andre Baptiste Jr was a very fortunate man indeed. His father was the leader of the country and he surrounded himself in as much luxury as was possible. His car was the fastest in the area and his beloved AK-47, which more often than not seemed to be glued to his hands, had been covered in gold. He ruled the streets and he could have any woman he wanted.

The last point was the reason why he suddenly found himself confused over his own reactions upon seeing Yuri’s younger brother. One thing was for sure; the brothers looked nothing alike. Vitaly, he’d been informed his name was, had a handsome face that demanded people’s attention and striking blue eyes that made sure the attention stayed on him. He had white teeth that sometimes showed behind soft, slightly pink lips. He had somewhat long brown hair that blew into his face with each gust of wind and the African felt the sudden urge to reach out and take a hold of it, feel if was as soft as it looked. The man definitely looked a lot younger than what he’d been told.

He kept his face stern and expressionless as his fingers absentmindedly stroked his bottom lip. He had reacted sexually to a few other men before, but never as intensely as this.

His stare seemed to make Vitaly nervous as the man turned around and take a long drag on his cigarette. As Vitaly turned once again and turned his brilliant blues on Andre’s face, the African felt a shock of heat in his groin. Man or not, the person in front of him was a stunning piece of artwork and he wanted him.

“Come on, where’s my fucking money?” Yuri asked suddenly, forcing Andre to lend an ear to the other men’s discussion while keeping the rest of his attention still focused on Vitaly.

“When it is delivered”, Baptiste Sr answered, indicating the weaponry he’d just inspected.

“It is delivered”, Yuri said, fearing the outcome. He’d expected to only bringing the cargo to Baptiste here and then go home, not to take them any further.

“This is not for me”, Baptiste Sr explained, making Yuri’s fears come true. “This is for my neighbours to the west.”

“The west?” Vitaly questioned, and Andre was pleased to hear that the man had a lovely voice that fitted his pretty exterior outstandingly. “We’re going to Sierra Leone?”

“Yes. And my son, Baptiste Jr, will go with you to make your proper introductions.”

Vitaly glanced quickly at Andre before glaring at his brother; the bad feeling in his gut suddenly got worse but he knew he had to follow Yuri to the end.

***

After a long drive in the hot African desert in a truck with stiffy air and open windows that seemed to let more sand than fresh air in, the Orlov brothers found themselves face to face with the leader of a group of rebellions called the Freedom Fighters, on a plateau that overlooked a small camp of tents that housed refugees. As Yuri had started to describe his weaponry to his buyer, followed by examining the diamonds he was offered, Vitaly made his way further out on the plateau as he observed the camp. He noticed a boy who suddenly ran from his mother’s side, the woman yelled as she ran after him, trying to call him back. What happened next was something so horrible it pushed the air out of his lungs as if he had been hit to the chest. A group of Freedom Fighters gave chase, and as the woman caught up with her son she pushed him to the ground and leaned over him, trying to protect his body with hers, as the men started to cut and stab them until their corpses were lying in a pool of blood.

Vitaly gasped for breath, his mind trying to realise what he’d just witnessed. He couldn’t let his brother sell weapons to people like this, people who slaughtered innocents like they weren’t worth more than rats. He wasn’t stupid or naive, he knew people killed each other – often with the guns he and Yuri would sell them, which made him sick with guilt – but he’d never actually seen anyone get killed. He’d managed to ignore this part of their business long enough in the beginning and later bury his guilt with drugs, now it was shoved right into his face and it was time to end it. He calmed himself down a little and went back to Yuri, who was busy examining a diamond, and managed to drag him aside to talk to him, to convince him to give up the deal.

“As soon as we hand over the guns, those people are going to die!”

Yuri looked over at the camp and saw the two dead bodies lying a bit away from it, then turned his steel gaze hidden behind black sunglasses upon Vitaly’s bright blue as he slowly said the next words, making sure Vitaly would understand; “It’s not our business.”

Andre Baptiste Jr walked towards them, his golden firearm ready to shoot if trouble arose, and Vitaly continued to plead his sake in Russian, which raised more suspicion from the African.

“What is he saying?” he demanded.

“It’s, uh, the deal. My brother is not happy with the terms, we’re working it out, it’s nothing.”

Vitaly held back a sigh as he looked away, turning his eyes back onto the small camp he wanted to save. He should have known his brother would be unreasonable with this. He was there to sell his merchandise, after all. Andre accepted Yuri’s explanation and walked back to the leader of the Freedom Fighters, but kept his eyes firmly on the brothers, or rather, on Vitaly. He knew he could trust Yuri, the man wouldn’t fuck up a deal like this, but the younger brother could be problematic.

Yuri stroked the side of his brother’s head, then clasped his shoulder encouragingly.

“Right? It’s nothing”, he said softly.

Vitaly looked straight into his sunglasses, hardly seeing the blue eyes behind them but knowing they looked right back into his. He turned his eyes away, taking a deep breath before looking back at Yuri. He knew what he had to do and he knew what would happen to him for doing it, but the guilt over the people that had lost their lives - that was about to lose their lives - because of him and Yuri, was eating him up from the inside and he refused to numb it down with drugs anymore. He had to act.

‘Fuck you, Yuri’, he thought, but instead said, “Nothing. You’re right. God, I gotta get my shit together! This is not our fight.” Yuri clapped his shoulder in support. They walked back together and Vitaly excused his actions by saying he’d thought it was a wrong amount of grenades. He left Yuri to get back to his deal and made his way towards one of the two trucks that carried the load.

Andre narrowed his eyes and followed the younger Orlov at a distance. He caught up with him as the man just had opened a box of grenades with a crowbar and held one of the deadly things in his hand.

“What are you doing?” he demanded as he aimed his golden AK-47 at the back of Vitaly’s head.

Vitaly mentally cursed at himself for being to wrapped up in his own dark thoughts and not paid attention. The trucks were unguarded but he should have realised that he had been followed. He let go of the grenade as he glanced over in the corner of his eye to where Andre stood.

“Something for Yuri”, he replied softly.

Andre cocked his rifle, “Step away. Slow.”

Vitaly started to move but discreetly managed to take a hold of the crowbar he’d left aside. Standing up and turning with great speed, he aimed a hit towards Andre’s head but the taller man reacted instinctively and ducked out of harm’s way. Before the American had halted his motion enough to make another attempt, Andre raised his gun and struck it across the brunette’s face. The blow came unexpected and he fell to the ground, the air was pushed out of his lungs and before he could gain enough sense to strike out with the crowbar again, Andre stepped on it, holding it down with his weight as he aimed his rifle straight into Vitaly’s face.

“I should shoot you right now”, Andre threatened.

Vitaly held his breath as he stared at the rifle. The man could kill him any second now, and although Vitaly wasn’t scared of dying he didn’t want to go like this; without accomplishing anything of what he had decided to do.

“You wanted to destroy the trucks?” Andre questioned. “Maybe use the grenade on us? Is Yuri in on it too, was that what you were talking about?”

The mentioning of his brother made Vitaly snap out of it and he moved his gaze to the other man’s face.

“Yuri had nothing to do with it, leave him out of this.”

“Perhaps shooting you will be too easy for you. Maybe we should let Yuri watch you suffer.”

Vitaly gritted his teeth as he repeated his words, “Leave him out of this.”

He knew he was going to die anyway, but he’d rather Yuri didn’t have to watch it happen.

He gasped in surprise as he felt the rifle move across his shirt, down towards his groin where it pressed against his dick before moving up again. Andre had a smug expression on his face and Vitaly got that feeling of dread in his gut again.

“But if we come to an understanding, I could let you go. You can go back to your brother and be on your way back to America.”

Vitaly bared his teeth in anger as his tongue gathered up saliva and blood in his mouth from the earlier blow.

“Go to hell”, he hissed and spat at him.

Using speed Vitaly wouldn’t have expected from the man, Andre bowed down to grab the crowbar that was still placed under his foot and struck the side of Vitaly’s head. The American gasped as his entire body rolled with the force of the blow. With him lying on his stomach, dazed from the strike, Andre placed his weapon aside at a safe distance from Vitaly’s hands but still close enough to quickly get a hold of it himself if needed to before he made short work of taking off the man’s leather jacket and ripping the half-way buttoned-up shirt off the lithe form, throwing them aside onto the hot desert sand, but left the white wife-beater on. He then placed his hands under Vitaly’s hips, raising them up enough to unbutton and drag down his jeans and underwear. Andre shivered with excitement as Vitaly’s firm pale skin was exposed to him.

Vitaly started to squirm around as he tried to get out of the other man’s grasp, his legs were useless as the jeans around his calves kept them from being used effectively and he couldn’t get a hit with his elbows from the position he was in. As Andre sensed he was about to scream for help, he pushed the man’s face into the sand, keeping it there for a long moment before taking a sharp grip on his hair and forcing his head back harshly as he leaned over his body to hiss in his ear.

“You want your brother to see you like this? His customers too? You think they will help you when I tell them what you were going to do with the weaponry?”

He started to bite the skin on Vitaly’s neck and shoulders as his free hand roamed over the skin of his ass. Vitaly clenched his jaw, the blood running from his nose and mouth made it difficult to breathe and having his head forced back in a position like that certainly didn’t make it easier. His head was still dazed from the blows to it and he tried to gather as much strength in his arms as he possibly could. He’d have to wait until the man let go of his hair, then he could fight back.

Andre didn’t let go so soon, though. He kept his grip on it while his mouth continued to taste the other’s skin and his hips thrust against the bare ass, rubbing his covered erection against it while the other hand kept Vitaly’s hips up from the ground. He glanced around quickly, but as they were behind the truck no one could see them and it didn’t take long before he was ready. He let go of Vitaly to pull his pants down enough and Vitaly saw his chance. His legs were still trapped in his jeans which Andre were kneeling on, but he twisted his body and shot out with his arm, feeling the sweet surge of accomplishment as his fist struck the African’s jaw but it was soon replaced with confusion and despair as Andre recovered fast enough to knock him down into the ground and force his face into the sand until he almost blacked out from the lack of air.

Confident that Vitaly was weakened enough to not lash out at him again, he replaced his hands on Vitaly’s hips to guide him up to a kneeling position before bringing one hand to his mouth, spitting on it and rubbing it over the head of his large cock along with the pre-come. He then guided the dick towards the small hole and rubbed against it for a moment before pressing in. Vitaly gasped and quickly bit down on his fist to keep from screaming. Andre placed both hands on the cheeks and moved them aside to open up further for his dick as he continued to press in.

“You like that? Uh, so fucking tight, like a little virgin”, he moaned as he thrust his hips harshly to go in further, but it was too tight and it felt like the burning hot hole was strangling him. He slapped an ass-cheek and Vitaly jumped slightly, the movement squeezing Andre and he felt like he was in heaven.

“Open up or I’m gonna stretch you with my gun.”

Vitaly’s teeth sank further into his hand, drawing blood, as he forced himself to relax and open up as much as he possibly could. He didn’t particularly desire to have a cocked gun up his ass, after all. A forgotten memory suddenly jumped into his mind from when he was in South America and it refused to be ignored. He and some newfound friends were snorting cocaine at some shitty inn, he wore a small black dress for some unknown reason; it probably belonged to one of the whores that one of the guys had brought along. He had been high out of his mind and could hardly move when someone had bent him over the table and fucked him like a mad-man. He couldn’t remember that it’d hurt – undoubtedly because of the cocaine – and he hadn’t felt more than the uncomfortable sensation of a dick pushed up where it shouldn’t be.

Suddenly he couldn’t comprehend anything other than a bright white light behind his eyelids as a pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before overtook his senses. He opened his mouth to scream but Andre covered it to keep it muffled as his dick rammed into him again and again, the fresh blood making it easier for it to slide in and out.

Vitaly couldn’t breathe. The large hand was covering his mouth to keep him from bringing attention to them and his nose was filled with blood, but he didn’t think he could draw breath even if nothing was hindering him. His fingers dug into the sand and he shook his head to try and get the hand off of him, but Andre held fast as he sped up his movements. The fingers of Andre's other hand dug deep into his hips; with a brutal thrust the dark man found himself completely buried within Vitaly and he stopped for a moment to relish the sensation. He loosened his hold over Vitaly's mouth and the man managed to take a few shaky breaths before the hand tightened its grip again. Andre then rolled his hips as if trying to get even further in, and Vitaly jumped when the large dick rubbed against something within him. His entire body shook from the contact and Andre rubbed against it again to feel Vitaly clench around him like that, and the Ukrainian-born American felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment and humiliation as his own dick reacted to the feeling, growing semi-erect. Andre slipped almost all the way out but with a quick movement of his hips he was in just as deep as before, his balls slamming forward against Vitaly’s, and he set up a steady pace of the brutal thrusting before giving in to the amazing feeling and speeding up, fucking the other man for all he was worth, every now and then rubbing against that spot inside Vitaly which made him jump and clench around him.

Vitaly didn’t know how long it lasted, it felt like hours but was probably nothing more than a few minutes, but when he felt Andre tense up an immense sense of relief washed over him. Soon the torture would be over. Andre came hard, filling him up completely while groaning into his ear. He stayed inside for a moment to catch his breath before pulling out and removing his hands from Vitaly to lie down next to him. Vitaly gasped for air, he was genuinely surprised that he hadn’t passed out from lack of oxygen. He glanced over at Andre and saw him cleaning himself up with Vitaly's battered shirt. Turning his head to the other side, he noticed the crowbar lying not too far away. Moving slowly to not get Andre’s attention he clutched it in his hand, and at the moment it felt as much of a savior as the drugs had done before he’d gotten clean. Keeping it hidden from Andre, he slowly stood on his shaky knees and pulled his jeans up. He could feel the blood and come pour out of him, run through the cotton of his boxers and soaking the denim but he didn’t care at the moment. Andre didn’t think he was much of a threat anymore, and when the man was about to stand up to button up his pants again, Vitaly took his shot. Strengthened by his fury and humiliation, he heard the crowbar hit its mark with a satisfying sound of metal crushing bone. Andre went down, blood squirting out from the side of his skull where the crowbar was still encased.

Vitaly panted harshly then dried his nose and mouth on the wife-beater he wore before slowly getting to his feet. His ass hurt like hell but he had no time to waste. Eventually, the others would notice how long he and Baptiste Jr had been gone and would come looking. Limping over to the box of grenades he had opened earlier, he grabbed two and prepared himself. Pulling off the safety pin on one, he threw it in among the cargo of the truck before turning and running as fast as he possibly could – which wasn’t very fast at all as he stumbled more often than not – towards the other. He was a safe distance away when the grenade detonated and the vehicle blew up, alerting everyone of his intentions. He could hear his brother screaming but he couldn’t make out the words, he was too concentrated on getting to the other truck.

The shots shouldn’t have come as a surprise really, but Vitaly suddenly found himself on the ground with more holes in his body than one should have. He tried to get up but that resulted in several more rounds being fired at him, and he ended up on his back.

He tried to breathe, to tell his body to hold on, when he saw Yuri standing above him. Yuri could only look in shock at his dying brother but his subconscious quickly noted that Vitaly had injuries that weren’t caused by the bullets. His nose and mouth had dried blood on them and there were strange marks – bites? – on his neck and shoulders, but he didn’t get much time to think more on the matter as he watched Vitaly’s next move. The younger man, gasping in pain as he tried to bring air into his damaged lungs, used his last strength to pull the safety pin of the remaining grenade, wanting to blow the other truck up, or alternatively himself, to hide the cause of his earlier injuries from his brother, and if the explosion somehow reached the other truck, it would be a major bonus, but Yuri kept his cool – damn him for always managing to keep a calm head! – and grabbed both the weapon and the safety pin from Vitaly’s weak hands. Vitaly looked up at his big brother, he couldn’t manage to speak but he knew Yuri could read his eyes. He begged him to finish what he had started and blow the cargo up, to put an end to the madness, to try and save the refugees at the camp instead of aiding their deaths.

Do it Yuri, damn you! Do it for me!

But Yuri didn’t. Instead, he put the safety pin back in place, thus securing the grenade, then could do nothing more than to look at the broken-hearted expression on his baby brother’s face as he died.

The End