Chapter Text
Lark didn’t deserve this.
But fuck , he needed it.
He needed to be bent over and fucked within an inch of his life. The feeling of Nick slamming against him, the feeling of cold steel from the park bench beneath his gripping hands, the feeling of his mind slipping away.
The evening was anything but quiet, the crickets, wind, and low static drum of street lamps that lined the paved jogging path mixed with their heavy breathing. Lark savoured the way Nick’s hands were holding onto his hips, fixing him in place as he drilled mercilessly into him, the other man’s grunts low and thrusts deliberate. He knew Lark’s body well, knew what to know in order to make him whine like the little bitch he was.
“Fuck, Lark.” Nick groaned, a clawed hand trailing up and down his spine. Lark’s eyes fluttered struggling to concentrate on his surroundings and failing. “Someone’s coming…”
Yeah, me, he thought through the haze, but he could hear it. In the distance the approaching sound of feet against pavement. Lark shivered, as if doused with ice water just as Nick’s claws found deeper purchase in his skin.
“Should we stop?” Nick had slowed his pace, but hadn’t stopped completely, the action teased at Lark’s insides. Don’t you fucking dare he wanted to growl it, but he couldn’t . the words failing on his tongue and all he could do was let out a pathetic whine. Why would he want to stop? This felt so fucking good, it would be a shame to stop now. The fall of footsteps matched the beat of his quickened heart and Lark pushed himself against Nick’s cock with a newfound hunger.
No, he didn’t want to stop, he should, they should hide behind any of the thick trees that lined the curving path. That would be smart, that would be logical.
He didn’t want that though, he was so fucking close . He needed this, might not deserve it, but that thought was being blurred out by the building pleasure in him. Moments like these were precious and few and Lark’s mind sang with joy.
The mystery figure was almost here and Lark bucked himself against Nick with desperate urge. Nick let out a low chuckle, his fingers finding purchase in Lark’s panting mouth.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” Nick crooned, the one claw hand still on his hip dug in even deeper and Lark let out another yelp.
Yes.
Always.
Fuck, so close, so fucking close-
The figure, a man, had come to a quick stop in front of them on the path. The streetlamp painted his features in a warm glow revealing himself to Lark. He was tall and thick, Lark could only imagine the weight of being under him would be delicious. His copper brown hair cropped short and black glassed framed his handsome face. Lark let out another whine as Nick bore down into him with more pressure. His fingers now around Lark's throat.
Through the haze of lust the gears in Lark's mind turned. He studied the interloper through wide eyes as realization dawned on him, pupils dilating in excitement. It was
Grant
. The man, his friend, stood in the path like a deer caught in headlights. His mouth tense and eyes wide, fists clenched to his side and chest heaving.
The heat of his own orgasm ripped through him violently and Lark cried out, mind going empty. Nick’s hands squeezing tightly around his throat, he slammed once more into Lark, the warmth of his climax seeking purchase within.
As if the spell was broken Grant broke free from his paralysis and turned to flee. Lark watched dumbly as Grant ran back down the pathway he emerged from. He should feel bad, guilty, anything but the feeling of beautiful emptiness that clung to his mind.
***
Nick knew Lark.
Or, he knew him pretty well, he definitely felt he knew him best. It was a weird point of pride he clung onto with desperation. Lark was the one thing he understood, even better than himself at times.
Nick pulled out and quickly zipped his jeans; looking around carefully as he did so. Good no one else was near. He sighed in relief, the heat of the moment fading as shame and embarrassment clawed their way forward.
He shook his head, trying to shake the emotions. He could deal with those later, right now Lark trembled below him. His partner was barely holding himself upright against the back of the bench. Nick quickly covered Lark in the long overcoat he had made him wear. Grabbing onto his hands he guided Lark around to the bench and slowly helped sit him down. Once the man was situated he sat beside him, pressing a kiss against his damp and sweaty forehead. Nick pulled back smiling then ran the back of his fingers down the side of Lark's cheek. The other man's eyes fluttered at the touch and he let out a sigh.
"Hey, pet, you alright?" He asked, studying Lark's face intently, searching for any signs of distress.
“G-grant…” Lark struggled through a breath, husky and barely audible. Nick tensed, forcing himself not to grimace. Grant had been a surprise , what was he doing jogging so late at night in this area? Nick had researched it specifically. It was a park near a developing suburb, unpopulated and perfect for some low risk exhibitionism.
Low risk was still a risk.
He would have to apologize later.
“Mhm, pet, you seemed to love seeing him.” He teased, remembering the way that Lark had tensed around him hard when he saw who the interloper was. Nick studied Lark’s face, hell, he’s so cute like this , he thought to himself, carding fingers through damp locks.
Lark was staring at him through shuddering eyelids, trying to focus on Nick’s face and Nick’s skin broke out into gooseflesh.
Oh.
The wave of arousal hit him anew and Nick took in a shaky breath.
Lark was completely lost.
He had never seen him like this before.
There was a short sting of jealousy from the sight. A delicious hint of pain mixed with pleasure that Nick often enjoyed. It was always him that brought Lark down to his knees shaking, it was always him to make Lark’s mind go quiet. He bit his lip hard, his fangs drawing small dots of blood.
“Grant…” Lark muttered once more, eyes closing.
Fuck.
This was dangerous.
He wanted to see more of this.
No, he needed it.
Nick smiled. “Let’s get you home,” he said, standing up and gathering Lark in his arms. He made his way back to his car in the direction that Grant had fled, mind and heart racing. He stole looks down at Lark's broken and peaceful face as he walked.
Fuck.
***
Grant burst through his apartment door. That had to be one of the most frustrating drives home ever. All red lights and no traffic, his blood boiling and erection screaming at him to pull over and beat off.
He could imagine himself, hunched over and desperate in the driver seat. Hand wrapped around his cock like a pathetic pervert, groaning Lark’s name and obscenities under his breath.
No, he wouldn’t let himself do that, the thought of someone seeing him in that state was enough to keep him driving.
Barely.
“Love?” Marco called out, Grant hoped his boyfriend had fallen asleep already, but there he was, working away on his laptop in the living room. “You’re home early, how was the run?
Grant didn’t want Marco to see anything, he strode across the room quickly and pushed past into the hall. “Bathroom.” He grunted, hoping that was enough of an explanation.
Marco called out once more before the door shut, but the blood in Grant’s head was too loud. He locked the door quickly and turned on the shower, craving the noise to hide what he was doing. He tried not to think that’s what he always did when he lived with his parents, the nights he was brave enough and desperate enough to lock himself in the bathroom. It had been years since he had done so, but old habits die hard.
Grant stripped off his sweatshirt and shorts, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His chest heaving and eyes wild, his erection struggled against his boxers and he flushed red in embarrassment and shame.
He was a grown man, it was okay.
He had needs to take care of.
This was okay.
It had been okay, for a while. Marco was always so sweet and understanding. Soothing, slow, kind words and gestures to get him through. Grant didn’t want that though and what had happened wasn’t okay. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
The sight of Lark bent over, mouth open and eyes glassy. The way he had looked at Grant, that look of recognition. Grant shivered. He tore off his boxers and clambered into the shower with conviction. He could deal with the guilt later, right now he had to take care of this.
The warm water washed over him as he leaned against the wall, resting against his raised forearm. The fingers of his freehand desperately sought out his aching cock and made quick work. He tried to think of Marco bent over on that bench, but the image of his boyfriend wouldn’t overlay correctly.
Grant groaned in frustration as he rubbed his shaft furiously, wet fingers slick with water and pre-cum. The image of Lark would not budge from his mind and so he decided not to fight it. Lark was always attractive, confident and built in a way that never made him seem fragile. Someone that had always been able to go toe to toe with him.
Grant shuddered underneath his touch. The intensity building in his stomach lie red hot embers, the pain and pleasure mounting, twisting in on itself. Lark, broken, panting and glassy eyed. He could have sworn that the man had mouthed Grant’s name as he came.
Grant hit the wall with an open palm, frustrated, this wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all. He loved Marco, this was no time or place to develop feelings for his friend! He felt like an idiot, like some horned up pervert in the boys locker room who couldn’t keep his eyes to himself.
He didn’t stop stroking himself, not while he was this close. Grant moaned, letting Lark’s name slip out of his lips, testing it on his tongue. The name was decadent to say, just like Marco’s. He cried out again, increasing his tempo and bucking needily into his hand.
He played the moment over and over in his head. The growing feeling of excitement as he approached two people fucking in the dark. The moment of heated arousal in knowing the two who were fucking like wild animals! The look on Nick’s face, confident and smiling, his fangs glinting in the street light, a look in his eyes that Grant knew very well.
Hunger.
A possessive hunger.
Grant let out a cry and replaced the image of Nick in his memory with himself. It was his fingers wrapping around Lark's neck, choking him as he pumped his cock deep inside.
He was so fucking close. Shit, was that Marco knocking on the door? He had to ignore him, he couldn’t stop, he needed this! Grant moaned harder, rubbing his cock with eager desperation, he needed to finish quickly. Lark beneath him, bending over, hips connecting with loud slaps, firm, supple, tight. The memory of Lark's voice crying out rang like bells in Grant's ears. Fuck, he was close, so close. He could almost hear the sound of Lark's husky voice forming his name.
Please god, please, just let me please come, please, god please.
His mind added to the scene, behind him Nick stood arms wrapped around his torso, claws tracing over his skin. The half-demon smiled and sunk his fangs deep into Grant’s shoulder. He could imagine the pain, the blood, the feeling of someone tearing into his flesh, opening him up.
Grant let out a cry of ecstasy, yes, that is what he needed! His climax shot through him violently, thick ropes of cum painting the shower’s wall. He felt on fire, he felt his blood burning in his veins. He felt alive.
God , it felt so good to be reminded that he was alive.
Grant slumped against the shower wall and slid down to the ground. He tried to hold on desperately to the afterglow of it all, but the feeling of guilt and shame were digging their sharp fingers into his chest.
Fuck. He hit his head against the shower wall with a loud thud, the flash a pain an old welcome friend. There were tears fighting at the corner of his eyes and he sighed.
Marco’s knocking had stopped, it probably didn’t take a rocket science to figure out what Grant had been doing. He grimaced to himself, how was he going to explain this? He ran a hand through wet hair and choked on a sob.
Just once, he thought to himself, suddenly exhausted, the adrenaline and pleasure seeping away.
Just once don’t fucking cry.
Grant sat in the shower, crying silently as the water washed over him and mixed with his tears.