by Cattraine

"Dark Angels" Universe

Disclaimer: Mine, all mine! I wish. Growl.

Warnings: M/M sex, violence and rock and roll. PWP. Dark Angels AU. This universe remains closed.

Pairing: Chris/Vin

Notes: This one is for Steel and Judy. Thanks for the encouragement folks. Sturgis is real. Klingoncat and I recently drove past it at a fairly fast clip...LOL.

Feedback: Please.

Chris Larabee ducked a flying chair as he elbowed his way towards the packed bar. The Broken Spoke Saloon was packed asshole deep with the rowdy bikers who had made the yearly bike rally to Sturgis, South Dakota. Somewhere mixed in the melee of hooting, howling, drunken, partying men and women were his men. Through a gap in the wall of sweaty, tattooed, leather and denim clad bodies, he spotted a blue-eyed oasis seated at the bar.

He peeled off a clinging blonde mama who had reeled drunkenly into his arms, and dropped her neatly into the nearby lap of a hairy, dragon-tattooed Bandito who whooped with pleasure at his sudden good fortune. Chris nodded a greeting to two burly Iron Horsemen seated at the bar, nudged in to stand next to Vin, draped an arm over the younger man's shoulders and smiled down into midnight blue eyes.

"Hey, Cowboy."

Vin pushed a full shot glass over to Larabee, who downed the fiery liquor in one gulp. He gasped, eyes watering.


Vin smirked at his lover's accusing glare.

"Just a gutwarmer, Cowboy," he said mildly.

"Tastes more like raw battery acid."

"Could be," Vin replied amiably, sharp blue eyes serene as he gazed out over the boisterous crowd. He idly tapped his own empty glass against the scarred oak surface of the bar, the dark blue cast on his right wrist a vivid contrast against the stained blond wood. Chris dropped his eyes to this reminder of Ella Gaine's viciousness, and shivered as he felt a chill slither up his spine. Skinwalker, Vin would call it.

Vin was due in a week or so to have both casts removed, and he was impatient as hell about it, hating with a passion any restriction of movement. Chris had caught him with his knife just last week sawing away patiently at one cast, and had taken the blade away and distracted him with deep, hot kisses to take his mind off the itch.

Still, Chris was secretly glad that wearing them had forced Tanner to ride behind him on the run up to Sturgis. He had enjoyed the feel of that lean body snug and safe against his back. He kept Vin close these days. He had come too damned close to losing his young lover to a madwoman's obsession, and if his blatant possessiveness caused Vin to occasionally shoot him exasperated looks, so be it.

He scanned the room looking for the others and quickly spotted Buck standing at the end of the bar with his arm around a curvy redhead with truly amazing cleavage. She was standing on tiptoe trying to speak into the tall man's ear through the noise, one hand toying with his belt buckle. Chris noted that while he appeared to be attentive, his stare was riveted over her head on a sleek, dark head in a far corner.

Raphael had shown up two days before they left for the rally with a sparkling new bike and a beautiful woman on the back to match. Maria had stuck to the handsome Latino like glue since, seeming to never leave his side. Now, for instance, she was seated in Rafe's lap wearing a bright red halter top and a tiny black skirt, both their dark heads close as they talked. As Chris watched, she tilted Raphael's head and kissed him deeply, small hand cupping his face. Buck turned back to his own woman, handsome face impassive.

Larabee gave an exasperated snort. He didn't know the exact cause of Buck and Rafe's quarrel, but he wished to hell they would stop dancing around each other like lovesick teenagers and talk it out. Buck had been mooning like a lost puppy before Rafe's return, despite his harem of devoted females. He spotted Nathan and JD seated at a table along the wall with some members of the Rock Machine and the Kings. He frowned, vaguely remembering Nate mentioning a cousin in the African-American Kings. Ezra he knew, was cloistered at a high stakes poker game at a nearby private residence.

He had just bent his head to ask Vin if he knew where Josiah was, when a commotion and a familiar outraged bass bellow reached his ears. Shit. A flying, flailing body nearly landed on the elk antler chandelier, then crashed onto a pool table. The crowd parted as the big man came careening through like a demented dervish. Sanchez had a gasping man tucked under each brawny arm in tight headlocks, one clinging like a monkey to his broad shoulders, and appeared to be stomping the shit out of a fourth. They all wore Mongol colors. Larabee swore softly. The Diaz brothers. Trust Josiah to start his own mini gang war!

"...nuns having sex," Vin said.

Larabee shook his head, convinced his hearing was off, or he was finally losing his mind.

"What!" He said loudly, leaning in closer to catch Tanner's reply.

"I SAID, reckon old Juanito done told that nuns having sex joke once too often!" Vin replied, exasperated.

Chris swore again. If it was one thing that Josiah revered it was nuns. Any nuns. Nuns were sacred to Sanchez. That mildly racy joke would be all that would be all it took to send the big ex-priest into a towering rage. No one insulted Josiah Sanchez's beloved nuns! Now it was now a matter of making sure he didn't kill any of his hapless victims.

The crowd was no help, everyone was either joining in the fight or cheering it on. The Mongol's warlord, Ramirez, shouldered in next to Vin, a scowl on his scarred face. Chris stood alertly beside Tanner, his trigger finger starting to itch, but the man's frown was already changing to a broad grin at whatever Vin was saying. Ramirez threw back his head and laughed, gave Tanner a friendly thump on the shoulder and Larabee a respectful nod before pushing his way back into the crowd towards the corner where his own jefe stood.

Chris watched as the man spoke into Bartolo Diaz' ear. A broad, white grin split the jefe's swarthy face, and he laughed aloud. He met Chris' alert gaze across the room, and nodded in a friendly fashion. When Larabee quirked a questioning brow towards the whirling, Diaz covered Sanchez, he received a negligent wave from Bartolo. The message was clear, let them fight it out. There would be no bad blood between the Dark Angels and the Mongols as a result.

Looking down the bar, Chris met Buck and Nathan's questioning, alert gazes. As he watched, Raphael shouldered quietly in to back them up, and he and Buck exchanged a speaking look. Behind them, JD Dunne was wide-eyed and bouncing with barely repressed excitement. At Chris' signal they relaxed slightly and turned their attention back to Sanchez. Chris shook his head and turned back to Vin.

"That must be one hell of a joke!"

Tanner gave an easy shrug, and grinned his familiar crooked grin up at Chris, blue eyes crinkled with amusement. Larabee had a sudden blinding hot urge to lick the smirk off that lush mouth, and tangle his fingers in Vin's hair. He glanced around. Everyone's attention was on Josiah and the Diaz brothers. Why the hell not? He turned back to Vin with a feral grin of his own that had Tanner straightening uneasily from his relaxed slouch against the bar, eyes widening with alarm. Too damned late.

Larabee wrapped an arm around Vin's trim waist, heaved up slightly, and had the younger man off the bar stool and hustled out the back door before he could protest. Chris was pleased to see that the back alley was empty except for the lines of bikes parked along the walls. He pushed Vin back into the shadowed corner where the loading dock met the back door, and went to work uncovering skin, ignoring Tanner's outraged protests.

"Gawddammit, Lar'bee, no! It's broad daylight!"

Chris glanced absently in the direction of the setting sun. "Not quite," he replied, hands and mouth busy against warm, silky skin. He could hear the crowds of people passing on the nearby sidewalks; tiny Sturgis was overrun with bikers this time of year. He had just nuzzled behind Vin's right ear when a sharp prick beneath his chin brought his head up sharply. Slowly he lifted his head to look into a set of arctic blue eyes.

"I SAID no. Seems to me, even a stupid man could understand one word." Tanner pressed a little harder on the blade at Larabee's throat, and Chris swallowed hard at the tiny stinging pain, followed by a slight trickle of blood down his neck.

He stared into those narrowed blue eyes trying to read them. Before he could open his mouth, Tanner continued. "Reckon you need ta be taught a lesson." The Texan's voice was a low, husky purr that made Chris' hair, as well as his dick stand up. Tanner leaned forward, knotted his free hand in Larabee's hair and tilted his head back. Chris shivered as a warm, wet tongue lapped daintily at the blood on his throat.

That husky voice growled into his ear, "Take your belt off," and he damned new broke a thumb in his haste to obey.

Vin kept the cold blade against the side of Chris' neck as he lazily lapped at the small wound, then latched on and sucked hard, wringing a hungry groan out of Larabee. A lean hand snaked down and grabbed the heavy leather belt the second it slipped free of its loops. He gasped in surprise when Tanner slid it around his throat and slipped the tongue through the buckle, forming a makeshift leash.

Vin pulled the loop tight enough up under his chin so that Chris could feel it, then resumed his work on Larabee's throat. This time he sank strong white teeth in, and bit down hard enough to make Larabee hiss in pain. Smoldering blue eyes lifted to his, and Vin licked his lips slowly, seemingly savoring the taste of Larabee's blood. Chris swallowed hard. He had never been so hard in his life.

"On your knees." The command was emphasized with a sharp tug of the belt, and Chris obeyed instantly, wincing as his knees hit concrete, eyes riveted on Vin's.

"You want this?" The razor sharp tip of the blade dipped down and lazily traced the length of the zipper on Tanner's worn jeans.

"Hell, yeah!"

"Unzip me. Slow." Chris' leash tightened a notch as warning. He reached to obey, palms sweaty and heart pounding. Cautiously, he rubbed his jaw against the bulge in the soft denim, inhaling the heady aroma of leather, cedar, sweat and pure Vin musk. Vin reached down and delicately traced the knife tip along the curve of Chris' jaw, scraping the golden bristles.

"Ya ain't nothing but a slut, Larabee."

Chris flashed him a white grin in agreement. Slowly, mouth watering in anticipation, Chris tugged the brass zipper down. Tanner's thick cock jutted up to meet his lips, tenting his briefs. Vin spread his legs slightly to allow Chris better access, and gave the belt an encouraging tug.

Larabee didn't need to be told twice. He reached up eagerly to free Tanner from his clothing, only to have his head cuffed smartly for his pains.

"Nope. Hands off. Mouth only."

Chris obliged, with a hungry moan of frustration nuzzling into Vin's crotch eagerly. There was a tiny wet spot forming on the warm cotton and he mouthed it hungrily, nursing hard on the fat cock head through the damp cloth. Vin gave a soft grunt and bucked his lean hips, pushing his erection deeper in Larabee's mouth. Chris gave a muffled growl and tugged Tanner's briefs down with his teeth, to slurp Vin's jutting cock deep into his throat.

Tanneer gritted his teeth, and threw his head back in pure pleasure at the sensation of hot, wet heat on his flesh. He fought the urge to thrust hard into Larabee's throat. He wanted to torment his arrogant lover as long as possible. He reached down with his knife hand and stroked the back of his knuckles across Larabee's jaw in a rough caress. Wicked green eyes flicked up to his face, and Larabee deliberately began to suckle harder, blond head bobbing between Tanner's thighs.

Vin gave a warning growl and tugged the belt, yanking Chris off his prize. White teeth flashed as he warned,

"Use lots of spit, Cowboy, it's all the lube yer gettin'."

Larabee's eyes widened and he obeyed, laving Tanner's hot, swollen cock with saliva, slurping wetly and noisily. Vin's eye's slitted with pleasure as he rocked back on his heels, but he manfully fought the need to climax in that hot, sweet mouth. He planned on planting his seed in that lean ass instead. He enjoyed Chris' expert fellatio for a few more moments, then again used the belt to tug him off.

"Up," he ordered curtly.

Chris had no more regained his feet one hand wiping his wet mouth, knowing better than to protest the loss of the musky taste of that thick prick, before he found himself roughly tipped over the wide leather seat of a nearby Harley. Tanner deftly sheathed his knife in his right boot and reached under Larabee to unzip his tight jeans, and yank them down. Larabee yelped as a booted foot roughly kicked his feet apart.

When Chris made a protesting noise, he silenced the blond with a hard slap to the pale ass.

"Shouldn't wear them britches so damned tight without drawers and get your boys caught in the zipper, Lar'bee."

Any reply Larabee might have made was muffled by the thick groan he gave as Tanner spread his ass cheeks and roughly began to finger open his tight hole. He writhed shamelessly, bracing himself against the bike's chrome muffler, and pushed back on Vin's wet fingers, trying to fuck himself on the long digits. He got another wordless snarl, and the tormenting hand was withdrawn long enough to deliver another stinging slap to his ass in warning.

He stilled obediently, breathing hard, his face flushed from the blood rushing to his head due to his position. He groaned again as Vin slowly began to finger him again, loosening the tight ring of muscle and probing deeper. Larabee's throbbing prick was smashed against the metal studded leather seat of the hog, and he bucked his slim hips, shamelessly seeking to hump against the slick leather and bring himself off.

Tanner stymied that plan by suddenly mounting Larabee and snapping his lean hips forward hard, ramming his thick cock head between Chris' cheeks, abruptly breaching the tight ring of muscle. One hard hand planted between Chris's shoulder blades still held the belt and kept the man in position, as Vin Tanner began to fuck his lover hard, giving him no chance to catch either his breath or his balance.

Larabee threw his head up, handsome face set in a rictus of pained pleasure as his body responded to the rough, almost dry fucking, and bucked helplessly back, seeking to bury that hard cock deeper. The makeshift leash around his throat, the heat, musky scent and sheer power of the lithe body covering him and driving deep inside, combined to nearly drive him insane with pleasure. Gutteral sounds of pure animal lust filled the alley, the slap of skin against skin, heavy panting, and the harsh grunts and moans of two men fucking.

Chris bucked hard beneath his lover, fighting the leash for his pleasure, and Tanner dropped the belt in favor of wrapping both arms around Larabee's slim waist and holding on tight as he rode his man, muscular buttocks pumping hard. His compact weight kept the taller blond securely pinned, and he took deep pleasure in balling his man nearly senseless. He was determined that Chris would come before he did.

He succeeded. Larabee gave a muffled cry as he shot, hot strings of pearly spunk anointing the black leather seat, his hole tightening convulsively around Vin's thick cock, milking him like a hot velvet glove. Tanner gave a deep bass grunt, and rammed in to the root, grinding against Chris' silky ass, his heavy balls slapping hard against Larabee's furry sac as he shot his load deep in his lover's hot bowels.

Panting for breath, he stayed joined to Chris, resting on the broad back for a few minutes before slowly dismounting, allowing his softening member to slip gently from Larabee's ass. He huffed a deep breath and gave Larabee's rosy behind a fond pat before tugging up the tight black jeans. Larabee straightened with a satisfied groan, stretching the kinks out of his spine and smirking down at the cum splattered bike seat.

He turned and pulled Vin into his arms, kissing him gently on the mouth. Tanner gently removed his belt from Chris' neck, then stood still while Larabee lazily looped it back around his waist and carefully tucked him in, zipped and buckled him up. Chris cupped Vin's soft groin with one possessive hand, and gave him a deep, appreciative kiss.

Tanner returned the pleasure, tugging the tight jeans snugly up over the narrow hips and making sure his lover's soft genitals were tucked safely away before drawing the heavy zipper up. They stood embracing against the brick wall for several minutes, exchanging wet, languid kisses as their breathing evened out and they slowly regained their composure.

Chris' arm around Vin's shoulders, they headed back into the bar. Both men were flushed with satisfaction, with swollen mouths and heavy-lidded eyes, their movements slow and languid. Larabee smiled down into Vin's face.

"Reckon we better round up the boys and head back to the motel before 'Siah ends up in jail. I'm more in the mood for supper and a nap before the concert tonight, than bailing his ass out."

Tanner gave him a knowing grin.

"You just want to get gone before ol' Bartolo figures out who done left his calling card on the seat of his hog."

"That too!"

Larabee gave his partner an evil white grin and they pushed their way back into the Broken Spoke. As the heavy steel door closed behind them, Larabee smirked and said,

"Thought you said no?"

"Changed my mind."

Laughing together, they pushed their way towards the busy bar to grab one for the road before rounding up the boys.