Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Out with Slash, In with Non-trad Heroes

We spent January looking at one of the many places male-male erotica/romance is fed by—slash. I don’t know that much about slash, personally. Compared to what I knew in December, I’m light years from where I started, but I’m still no afficianado. I have a pretty good bibliography to start with, now.

In spite of not knowing that much about slash, I had a few ideas about it and how it has informed the male-male romance genre. It’s hard not to have some ideas about it when you write in the genre. So far, after looking at slash in depth, I’m pretty sure my main idea has held up: a lot of tropes that we see in M/M (and sometimes nowhere else) have roots in slash.

One of those tropes is Gay-for-You/Out-for-You. That’s something we’ll be looking at more closely in April, when we spend a whole month posting about it. I think it’s one of the stronger tropes that has sprung mostly from slash rootstock.

Photo credit: farconville
Another thing that I think has been influenced by slash are the types of heroes we see in M/M original fiction. The slash influence on M/M heroes is more subtle than with the GFY/OFY trope. It’s not like you don’t see vampires and shape-shifters in lots of other media, or law enforcement professionals in romance. But when I look at the shows and other media that people tend to get slashy with, cop shows and the suprenatural are pretty well-represented. It’s impossible to discount the effect something like Brokeback Mountain had on slash and later on the proliferation of cowboy heroes in M/M. I bet, per capita, there are as many cowboys in M/M as there are red-heads in het romance (i.e., far more than the current world population supports).

It’s not a hard and fast rule that heroes that do well in slash will do well in M/M, since a lot of slash comes from sci-fi, most notably Star Trek. In M/M, sci-fi tends not to do as well as the cowboys and cops. Harry Potter created a huge influx in slash writers, but we don’t see that many heroes in M/M who are wizards—although I’ve read a few. I could spend some time arguing for Harry Potter’s influence on vampires/shape-shifters/elves/etc, but I’ll spare you.

My point is this: a lot of M/M writers began in slash, and a lot of current slash writers are interested in making the jump from fanfic to original. Once a writer has made that jump, they are in a new world, where some of the tropes and conventions from fanfic carry over, but others don’t. It can push people out of their comfort zone, and right into a whole new world to play with. A world of their own making. A world where their hero’s traits and life path are completely up to them.

So, if that’s true, what’s with the proliferation of M/M heroes who are in law enforcement, cow enforcement, blood-sucking and/or shape-shifting? Is it me, or does it seem like there’s a hell of a lot of those guys around popping up in gay romance? Where are the accountants and the investment bankers and the mid-level managers?

Okay, fine, so a hero in mid-level management isn’t particularly interesting unless he’s also a werewolf, or even just moonlights as a stripper, but still, there’s a whole lot of ground to be covered in the world of M/M erotica that hasn’t yet been explored. And all of it holds potential for interest. What about the hero who isn’t going to come out in some grand fashion to the world, like, ever? What about the hero who really is the stereotype people imagine when they think “gay guy”?

I could go on about what it is I wonder at night (when I’m not plotting out sex scenes or *ahem* researching) about the emerging M/M hero, but I won’t. ‘Cause guess what the month of February is themed here at Chicks & Dicks? You got it, hon, Non-traditional Heroes.

We’re beginning Non-traditional Heroes month with a post from Lou Harper, who has a new release, Academic Pursuits. I beta’ed Academic Pursuits, and it’s a story I highly recommend…if you aren’t expecting a traditional M/M hero. The story is told all from one hero’s perspective, and he’s a slut. Lou will help you get into Jamie’s head a little on Thursday the second.

On Saturday the fourth K.Z. Snow is explaining all the reasons we need more of the regular guys in M/M, and she explains it (and celebrates the regular guy) far better than I can. So mostly I’m going to let her do it. I’ll just say: what K.Z. said.

Later in the month (seriously, you must have noticed by now I don’t really schedule much in advance), we’ll have Thorny Sterling telling us what kinds of heroes he’d like to see in M/M, the Smexy Grammarian will be back, Marie Sexton will drop by, Dr. Porne is going to wax eloquent on the hairy male (get it? Hehe, “wax”), and, of course, we’ll have tons more.

So, drop on by Chicks & Dicks in February, it’s going to be an interesting one.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, M/M, and Me

 How did I find M/M? Like a lot of people, it seems, I got my start in fanfiction. I've been writing fanfiction my entire life. Only, when I was five and making little booklets for Rainbow Brite, I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't even know there was a name for it until I was in college with the internet at my fingertips and discovered there were other people who did the same thing.

I've always wanted to write for a living. No, not a journalist, or anything remotely close. I wanted to write fun, exciting things. My mind was always teeming with ideas that needed to be written down and I didn't want to bother with anything else in my life that would take away from my writing. The only problem was, in the beginning my ideas only worked out in fanfiction, and you can't get paid for writing fanfic. But you've got to start somewhere. Right?

Back in the late 1990's there was a little known TV show called The Net, which featured among it's small-time cast, the young man who would soon become my favorite actor, Eric Szmanda. This show only had one season, though I wrote for it for several years.

And then CSI: Crime Scene Investigation came into my life when I realized Eric Szmanda was a regular guest star before he became part of the main cast. I began to wonder what the fanfiction was like for it. I'd never considered writing for CSI, because there wasn't much personal information about the characters given on the show. But I went online and looked some up, expecting to find a mirror of an actual episode. What I found surprised the heck out of me.

Fans were pairing up all sorts of characters with each other in romantic relationships, commonly referred to as a “ship”. Since I'd come from smaller cast shows where the main relationship is pretty obvious, I was surprised at all the relationship possibilities people were putting together. They saw the subtext I was missing out on! Each of these ships had a nickname. Grissom and Sara were called GSR. In long hand that means Grissom Sara Romance, though on the show when they refer to GSR they mean Gun Shot Residue. Sara and Greg, meanwhile, were called Sandles, which was a meshing of their last names, Sidle and Sanders. 

But the biggest surprise for me, was the ship known simply as The Love. This ship stands for Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders. Of course, who plays Greg? Eric Szmanda. It was my first view of slash fiction and it included my favorite actor. I was so shocked I walked away. Fast.

It was months before I went back to try slash fanfic again. But I did. Curiosity got the better of me, and I soon fell in love with the boys.

The Love got its name because the fans wanted something that was simple, pure, and romantic. To them, and to me, their relationship was simply about love. I got to know the people who'd started the fan base for The Love, and hearing the reasoning behind the nickname made me love it that much more. It wasn't a mashing of names, or something related to their hobbies or jobs, like Warrick and Catherine's ship name Yo!Bling or Sophia and Jim's which was Cuff'Em. It was simple, and beautiful.

I began to see the subtext I'd been missing for years, and once I saw it, there was no going back. Once I started writing for The Love the reviews didn't hurt either. I loved getting them and some of them were the best I'd ever gotten. I wouldn't put myself on a pedestal, but there were other writers who were stunned when I would review their work. Little old me was becoming someone many seemed to look up to. It was, and still is, an odd feeling.

I had gone through grad school and finally gotten a good paying job so I could support myself, but I still had that itch to write something that could be published for real one day. I keep saying to this day, if I was homeless and you offered me a choice between the hot burger or the pen and paper, and I could only choose one, I'd take the pen and paper every time.

The first M/M novel I read was Slave Boy by Evangeline Anderson, though I've long since forgotten exactly how I stumbled across it. Several years later, it's still one of my favorites and I've now got an entire bookcase dedicated to this wonderful genre.  

Once I'd started reading M/M, it became clear which direction my novel writing should take. For years, I'd been trying to write original fiction without much luck. It all sucked, and I didn't know why. I only knew that my fanfiction thrived. Until the day I realized I'd been pairing up all the  wrong characters.  ;-)

I currently have an M/M sci-fi short story entitled “Finding Home” in the free anthology Don't Read In The Closet Vol 2 available on Goodreads.com. I'm also working feverishly on my first M/M suspense novel, which I'm looking forward to getting published one of these days. The plot bunnies for original fiction just keep breeding with each other now, and I'm happy to say I will not lack for ideas for at least the next few years.

If you want to know more about CSI and its ships, you can find the official fan wiki here: www.csi.wetpaint.com

If you would like to read my fanfiction, under the penname QueenOfTheUniverse, you may find it here www.fanfiction.net/~QueenOfTheUniverse and here www.QueenOfTheUniverse.wetpaint.com

And if you are looking for exceptional fanfiction written by others for The Love you can go to my fanfiction.net page and from there, click on the tab labeled “favorites”.

As for my original fiction, my official website is here: www.jordanlombard.wordpress.com

Much Love, Peace, and Happiness,
Jordan Sophia Lombard

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Ameriglish and Britglish - by the Smexy Grammarian

Two Sides of the Same Coin Purse

Let’s face it; fans from both sides of the pond enjoy fandoms from both sides of the pond. That’s the beauty of global communication. But if an American wants to write fanfic for BBC Merlin or a Brit/Aussie/Non-American wants to write fanfic for Supernatural, knowing the speech and spelling conventions of the fandom’s origin will add authenticity to that story.

I’m going to give a brief introduction into the differences between American English and British English, with some further resources to help write that delicious Harry/Draco story tumbling around in your brain.


Britglish tends to use the ending –our where Ameriglish eliminates that <i>u</i>.

Britglish tends to use the ending –wards where Ameriglish eliminates that final <i>s</i>.

Many s sounds in Britglish turn into the harder z sound in Ameriglish, especially in –ize/–ise endings.

While Ameriglish usually simplifies spellings (no u, nos), one exception is the past tense verb ending. Britglish likes a –t ending, whereas Ameriglish uses –ed.

In Sherlock Holmes’s England, the sky is always grey. In Forks, Washington (the home of Twilight), the sky is always gray.

[Hunger Games]
“Can you do me a favor?” Peeta asked, his gray shirt clinging to him in the summer heat.

Gale’s body heated when he realized the other boy had stepped toward him. “What?”

Peeta leaned into him. “Kiss me.”

[Merlin BBC]
Merlin pouted, his eyes nearly grey in the pre-dawn light. “I labour all day for you, you know!”

Arthur took a step backwards. “Do you want me to apologise for making you do your job?”

“No, but you are very spoilt,” Merlin returned.

“Which only means I know how to spoil you sometimes.”

Merlin paused. “Point taken.”


in the hospital/in hospital
When an American needs surgery, he’ll go to the hospital. When a British English speaker needs surgery, he’ll go to hospital, unless he’s referring to a specific hospital, and then he’d say he’s going to the [hospital name].

going on vacation/going on holiday
Ameriglish speakers take vacations from work, while Britglish speakers take holidays.

[Star Trek]
“Dammit, Jim,” McCoy said, “I’m a man, not a machine, and we’re taking a vacation when we get back to Earth.”

“Fine with me,” Kirk said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

[Lord of the Rings]
Inside Helm’s Deep, Legolas listened to the orc army’s war cry. He turned to Aragorn.

“Perhaps we should go on holiday after all this,” he said with a small smile.

Aragorn merely clasped the elf’s shoulder in agreement.


Ah, those pieces of fabric we love our fandom men to strip off of each other. In Ameriglish, men (and women) wear underwear (boxers, briefs, tighty whities, etc) under their jeans. In Britglish, however, men wear pants (women wear knickers) under their jeans.

Which brings us to the next question: what goes over underwear/pants? In Ameriglish, the legs wear pants, jeans, shorts, etc. In Britglish, the legs wear trousers, jeans, shorts (refers specifically to casual athletic wear), etc.

Logan tensed when the door to his room burst open. He managed to keep from attacking only because he recognized the man who had barged in. “What do you want?” he asked gruffly.

Scott took in Logan’s mostly naked body for a long moment before replying, “The Professor wants to see all of us.”

“Well that’s fine, but I don’t appreciate being caught with my pants down.” Logan pulled on jeans over his underwear.

Scott smirked. “I sure do.”

[Pride and Prejudice]
Darcy looked at the other man askance. “Bingley, I don’t think—”

“Nonsense, Darcy!” Bingley interrupted jovially, removing his trousers and standing beside the bed in only his pants. “You think entirely too much. Now come over here.”

Darcy sighed but acquiesced.


Okay, this is the part you skipped down to, right? So you most likely already know about the ass/arse difference. If you’ve seen the Angelina Jolie Tomb Raider movies, you’re probably also familiar with the British slang “bugger,” which is similar to the American “damn.” Although using “bugger” as a verb has a history of meaning “to fuck,” and “fuck” originated in Ameriglish but has migrated overseas with generally the same coarseness.

What you probably didn’t know, however, is that some words might be benign in one dialect but vulgar in the other.

[Criminal Minds]
Reid slipped on the rainy sidewalk, and Morgan jogged to his side.

“Come on, kid. No need to fall on your fanny just for me.”

[Harry Potter]
”What’s the matter, Potter?” Draco said tightly. He waved his hands over his naked body. “You’d choose a fanny over this?”

In Ameriglish, a fanny is a mild term for a buttox, behind, ass. This is NOT the case for Britglish; it’s a coarse term for a vagina. So American tourists to the UK, beware: it’s a bum bag, not a fanny pack. Let’s not think of what a fanny pack actually refers to in Britglish.

Like I said, this was the briefest of introductions into English dialects. For more information, these communities have extensive information on almost any English topic and ways for you to ask your own questions.

http://hp-britglish.livejournal.com/profile: Britglish geared toward Harry Potter fans
http://dw-britglish.livejournal.com/profile: Britglish geared toward Doctor Who fans
http://brits-americans.livejournal.com/profile: general America/Britain community
http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brit-pick: history of Brit-picking (asking someone to check a fanfic for Britglish accuracy)

Thursday, January 26, 2012

The Final Frontier by Sue Holston

We’re Sue and Holly, the writing team of Sue Holston. We’d like to thank Anne and Taylor for inviting us to their blog. Our first novella, In the Name of the Law was released by Total E Bound on January 16, 2012 in the anthology, His Hero and as a standalone novel on February 13th. To celebrate, we are offering up a free copy of His Hero to one lucky commenter, so please leave your name and e-mail address in this thread. 

Sue and I got our start in slash fandoms, so here’s our back-story…

H.L. Holston:

I first started reading fan fiction in 1995, when I found the TV show Forever Knight on late one night. I wanted Nick and Natalie, two of the main characters to be together romantically—something that was not happening on the show—so I searched the very new Prodigy forums for stories that would satisfy my Nick/Natalie needs and actually found some! I was in heaven. As a series romance reader, fanfic hit all my needs for romance that I wasn’t getting on my favorite television shows.

Fast forward a few years later, again watching television in the middle of the night, I came upon some old reruns of Star Trek on the Sci-Fi channel. In particular, the “Amok Time” episode (aka the episode where Spock goes into heat). Now, I had watched Star Trek reruns as a kid and liked the show…but this time, the sexual chemistry between Kirk and Spock seemed to literally jump off my television screen. I screamed in my head: They Are So Doin’ It! Then, I ran for the Internet and found some K/S slash fiction. Plus, considering the fact the Kirk/Spock pairing is the grand-daddy of all slash fandoms—there were at least 30 years of it on the Internet and in zines (“An inexpensively produced, self-published, underground publication.”)—I was overwhelmed at the amount of fic out there! (Really, you could read three K/S stories a day for the rest of your life and probably not cover all the Kirk/Spock goodness out there.) I was hooked. In that instant, I became a die-hard slasher.

Finding slash was an eye-opening experience. While I had heard of slash in The X-Files fandom, it wasn’t my thing as I was a die-hard Mulder/Scully shipper, but the concept of the genre wasn’t new to me. In all my years of watching television, I had never seen the sexual tension between two men as something that I would enjoy -- or find believable. However, “Amok Time” changed all that. I now saw slash possibilities everywhere: The Sentinel, Smallville and Stargate Atlantis. Slash opened up new possibilities for me, including writing. While I had written a few het Forever Knight stories, once I found slash I began writing like a mad woman. I’ve written in numerous fandoms over a 17 year period and I credit fan fiction in helping me start my m/m writing career in learning about characterization, developing a plot, setting and getting and reviewing feedback and constructive criticism. Although I haven’t written fanfic in nearly a year -- as I’ve been working on a new original novel – I still enjoy reading the occasional slash story and I am happy to admit my origins are in slash fandom.

S. A. Holston:

When I was a kid of 15, (a very long time ago!) a friend and I used to write stories together about the players of Norwich City Football Club. (I’m a Brit, and I’m talking about soccer here.) The stories were what I later discovered to be slash. We wrote about Napoleon and Illya from Man From Uncle too, and although those stories were discarded as soon as we’d giggled about them, that revealed my interest to me. I thought I was alone for years, and somehow a little bit deviant.  

Fast forward to 1994 and the arrival of Alex Krycek on The X-Files.  I don’t know what it was about that character but I instantly paired him with Mulder in all the most sexually explicit ways that I could possibly imagine. I’d written a couple of Mulder/Scully stories -- my very first foray into writing fanfic -- but my heart wasn’t in it, and I knew what my ‘one true pairing’ had to be, and I wrote my first real slash fic. Tentatively I looked around the Internet to see if there actually was any Mulder/Krycek out there, and hit the mother lode. There was a whole mailing list devoted to it, with people who posted stories every day! I had found my home and plunged in happily.

I wrote Mulder/Krycek for years, and still throw Krycek into stories from time to time, but gradually progressed from X-Files to other fandoms like Roswell, Highlander and Supernatural. I joined a role playing group online, and ran several characters there for several years, trying to keep them in character while interacting with others. That was a valuable exercise, but still dependent on someone else’s characters. It was only when my writing partner, Holly, bugged me that I even thought of writing original fiction although I’ve done a fair bit of non-fictional humor pieces. When she suggested writing an original story it felt like a logical progression, and I think that fan fiction has helped me develop the skills I needed to branch out into building my own characters. As yet I haven’t cannibalized any of my fan fiction to transform it into an original story, but I am sure that it’s really only a matter of time before that happens. I have a vast number of stories to work through.

I still write fanfic. So often, the characters I love don’t do what I want them to on the shows I watch. I can fix that, so I do. My own original characters are much better behaved for me, and although it’s a medium I’m really only now starting to explore, I’m enjoying the ride, but it’s all due to that grounding I’ve had in fan fiction.


As for future projects, we are trying to finish up our latest novel, Rock Star, set in the crazy world of a dysfunctional rock and roll band. Separately, Holly has a short story, Coffee, Tea and the Mile High Club that will be published by Silver Publishing in May under the name H.L. Holston.

We’d love to hear from readers, and enjoy feedback. You can always contact on our blog, Livejournal or via e-mail: sue_holston@hotmail.com. Thank you for reading!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Beeeeeeeeep! Chicks & Dicks Alert

This is not a test. 

This is an alert of the Chicks and Dicks Emergency Alert System.

Please standby for information on the nature of the alert.

Today on S.L. Armstrong's blog, she is discussing recycling fanfic/slash into publishable, original fiction. If you read Julianne Bentley's post on this topic last week, and would like to investigate the subject further, check out S.L.'s blog.

This has been an alert of the Chicks and Dicks Emergency Alert System (CaDEAS)

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Iceman Cometh by Cherie Noel

Top Gun Slash by Cherie Noel

Maverick pushed past the grunt blocking the entry to the bar, Goose riding his shoulder like always. He loved Goose like a brother, but man, sometimes he wished he could shake the guy just for an hour or two. It was damn hard to get laid when your happily heterosexual wingman was hanging over your left shoulder and your gate swung in the opposite direction. 

Music blared from the jukebox, some ear assaulting mix of pop and rock. Maverick eased his aviator shades up his forehead until they rested in his hair. Casting a quick gaze around he spotted about ten straight couples, a double handful of horny airmen and two or three single girls looking to get lucky. Two of them were ordinary looking, and the third was beautiful. Maverick wasn’t into curving hips and bouncing breasts, but she was undeniably lovely. 

And she happened to be sitting right next to the hottest thing Maverick had laid eyes on in a good long while. A surge of heat raced through his gut, and he looked for a hair too long. The guy gave a subtle little tip of his longneck and then tilted his head fractionally to the right. Goose leaned in, his hand heavy on Maverick’s shoulder.

“I know you can help her, Mav.”

Maverick shook his head. Oh shit, not now. Goose grinned, loose and easy. His little blond pixie of a wife insinuated herself under his arm, giggling and agreeing.

“Oooh, yeah Maverick. She’s lost that loving feeling.”

Maverick hung his head in defeat. When Goose and his missus both where on the cupid trail all he could do was ask the girl out, and hope she said no. If she said yes he’d spend the rest of his evening wondering if he’d imagined the come hither look the tall, lean pilot at the end of the bar had given him. 

Goose handed him a microphone. 

Maverick stood, launching into as off-key a rendition of the song as he thought he could reasonably pull off. The tall cool blond at the end of the bar smirked. Rolling his beer along the edge of his jaw, he caught Maverick’s eye and winked. 

“That’s Iceman. I hear he’s got the best stats of any pilot to come through Top Gun in the last decade.”

Goose’s words broke through a lull in the music. Maverick watched the blond, Iceman, flinch minutely. He rushed through the rest of the song, ending with a big flourish on one knee in front of the girl next to Iceman. Pasting his best cocky grin on his face, he entreated her to give him a shot. She gazed back at him coolly for a moment. Maverick tried to hold his gaze steady on the classic lines of her face, but failed. Watching as closely as she was made it impossible to miss the way his eyes flicked over to drink in the other pilot’s strong jaw and high, chiseled cheekbones.  
It was an error of mammoth proportions to let the hunger burning brightly in his center show itself. He knew better, knew the gut clenching thrill of flying the best damn planes in the world could only be his if he hid who he was and pretended to be the man Uncle Sam and the rest of the damn world seemed to want. A wave of sour heat rushed up Maverick’s throat as he forced his gaze back to her face.

She looked directly back at him, doe brown eyes shining in the smoky bar light. A faint smile tipped one side of her mouth up. Reaching up, she tucked her chin length hair behind one ear.

“Fancy finding family here of all places…”

Maverick’s heart clenched, stuttered and then settled into a hard fast rhythm. He blinked, unsure if he’d heard her correctly.

“I beg your pardon?”

She grinned then, a wry elder sister grin of camaraderie that Maverick felt clear to his toes. It warmed him. 

“Didn’t Aunt Dorothy tell you that I’d be meeting you here? I swear, that old girl gets more forgetful every day.” 

An impish sparkle danced through her eyes. After a moment Maverick grinned back at her, reaching forward to capture her hand. He raised it to his mouth, kissing the back with old-fashioned gallantry. A low, husky chuckle rolled from the woman’s throat. A flash of white passed on Maverick’s right side. She tipped her head to one side, nodded to someone over his shoulder, and then leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially in his ear.

“I believe you have someone waiting for you out in back of the bar. Shall we go?”

She stood. Maverick’s mouth dropped open. He had a good idea about who was waiting for him out behind the bar, and the idea of the tall blond pilot pressing that soft pink mouth and long lean body against him was momentarily more than he could bear. He squeezed his eyes shut, drew in a deep breath, held it for a three count, and then exhaled and opened his eyes as he rose to his feet. 

“I’d be delighted to follow you anywhere you want to lead, pretty lady.”

She laughed, and with a quick glance around, leaned into him. Maverick played along, slipping his arm around her waist until they were outside and the doors closed behind him. Dropping his arm, he moved a half step away. 

“Thanks. My friend, Goose, he means well…”

A sharp bark of laughter answered him as she drew a cigarette from her purse. She fumbled in the handbag, clearly looking for a lighter. Maverick started to turn back toward the door.
“I can get you a match from—”

A flame flickered to life in the deep shadows along the wall. Iceman leaned insouciantly against the dusty concrete, his face thrown into stark relief in the orange and red glow of the little tongue of fire. 

“I’ll take that fire, pilot.”

The woman’s husky tones faded into the background for Maverick as Iceman stepped away from the wall. The taller man leaned forward, bending slightly from the waist as he cupped a hand around the woman’s cigarette. 

His icy blue eyes never left Maverick’s face.

Maverick swallowed. His throat was suddenly dry, as dry as if he’d never know water in his life. Iceman’s lids lowered lazily until his gaze was hooded. Maverick’s cock twitched. His balls drew up close to his body. Iceman released the lever on the lighter, and his face fell into shadow.

“Night boys. I’ll be leaving the back way. There’s a path down here—”

Iceman cut her off.

“Leads down by the river. I know. Thank you, ma’am.”

He nodded sharply, both perfectly polite and utterly dismissive. She chuckled again, swaying off down the path. Maverick found himself watching what he could see of her retreat. Not much was visible. Within seconds she was a shadow among other shadows, and then even the sound of her footfalls faded away. 

The silence grew heavy and pressed on his skin.

“I heard you’re the best.”

A slash of white appeared where Maverick knew Iceman’s face to be. 

“You heard right.”

And then there were no more words, just Iceman’s broad, long fingered hands wrapping around Maverick’s upper arms, spinning him around and pushing him hard against the back wall of the bar. The taller man pressed his advantage, his hips grinding against Maverick’s ass and his chest held flush against Maverick’s back. His silk over gravel baritone rasped into the smaller man’s ear. Iceman’s lips just brushed the shell of his ear. 

“I’m gonna take you right here Maverick, where any of those punks from the bar could happen on us. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you cry and beg for me to never, never stop.”

He licked his tongue into Maverick’s ear, then pulled back just enough to get a good grip on the lobe with his teeth. 

“Aaaahhh. E-easy, man.”

Iceman released Maverick’s ear. His hot mouth slid down along the crease at the back of Maverick’s jaw. He eased back again, just his mouth, and then struck like a rattler on a field mouse. He bit the side of Maverick’s neck hard before sealing his lips around the point and sucking.

The spot pulled on nerves Maverick had been unaware of before. He groaned, low and fierce. Iceman clapped a hand over his mouth, the other hand mapping Maverick’s side and down along his belly until it reached his waist. Iceman’s clever fingers made quick work of Maverick’s buckle and the fasteners of his trousers, sliding inside to investigate his groin but managing to avoid touching Maverick’s cock.

“I thought you were some hotshot pilot. Thought you knew how to handle a stick.”

Iceman made a sound, not quite a laugh, huffing, amused and disapproving all at once. He didn’t speak. He shucked Maverick’s pants down to mid-thigh. Maverick reared back, twisting his head to the side to free his mouth.

“What? You’re not serious? We can’t do this here.”

Iceman just pressed him harder into the wall. Maverick felt a squirt of slick at the top of his ass, and then those long fingers were caressing it down his crack and pushing, pushing it into his hole. The silent pilot shoved two fingers into Maverick’s ass. The intense burn had Maverick biting his lip to keep from crying out. Iceman plunged his fingers in hard and quick, scissoring them before adding a third. 

His hand pulled away, and then Maverick felt the blunt tip of his cock press inexorably inwards, and they were rocking and grooving and Iceman shoved and shoved and shoved his huge cock into Maverick until the smaller man thought he might split in two. 

He bottomed out and then reared back, grabbing Maverick’s hips to pull them back at a better angle. He didn’t wait and he didn’t ask he just fucked Maverick hard and fast and dirty until Maverick knew his dick would be sore from where it smacked against the concrete with Iceman’s every thrust in. Iceman widened his stance and then he really got down to business, shoving his cock in at a furious rate. 

Maverick keened.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Maverick bit his tongue.

Iceman slammed home twice, four times, six, and then pushed Maverick nearly flat against the wall, his big body shaking as his seed shot deep into Maverick’s ass. He reached around, squeezing Maverick’s aching prick once and Maverick went off like a fourth of July bottle rocket. Iceman eased out, smacked Maverick once on the ass hard enough to leave a heated handprint behind, zipped his fly and leaned down to nip the back of Maverick’s neck.

“See you at home, babe.”

Maverick leaned against the wall until his legs stopped shaking and then pulled his pants gingerly over his sore ass. Iceman so owed him a massage and a long soak in their big tub.  

by Cherie Noel