Bad Blood 2
Deep in the woods, we pause for breath, leaning against one another. We can still hear the clatter of the helicopter circling somewhere above us.
“They’ll come after us,” pants Jason.
“Sure and they’ll have dogs.”
I take out my knife and cut my right palm, then indicate for him to hold out his. He looks at me a moment and then he stretches it out. I cut him and we clasp hands, thumbs entwined,
“Blood brothers,” I say.
“Blood brothers, you mad fucker!”
And then we are off again, running……………
Frankie
My chest begins to feel like there’s somebody sitting right on it and my legs are getting heavier and heavier. I hear Jason panting behind me and grin a little, ‘cause the cocky bastard is struggling too.
Suddenly I see a grey concrete slab ahead and with relief, recognize it as some kind of shelter. There’s a square doorway and I dive in, followed by Jason. It stinks in there and it’s too dark to see what we are getting into, but I hit corrugated iron, when I landed, so I pull up the sheet of it and put it across the door.
I crawl in as far as I can go and sit with my back against the wall. Jason moves to sit next to me in the dark and groans,
“Fuck! What is that smell?”
“Either you need to shower, or something is dead in here. Probably both.”
There’s a snort and a click as Jason holds up his cigarette lighter and we see our cosy little den.
The floor is covered in all kinds of filth, but it is dry. There are a few sacks of something agricultural against the far wall and in the corner something nasty we don’t want to know about.
Jason snorts again,
“It’s a shithole.”
“Come on, brother, lighten up. Thermal cameras can’t see us through concrete and if we are lucky, the cops with dogs won’t find us in here. Oh, and you have the added bonus of my company.”
“Oh yeah, brother, I was forgetting. Probably get some horrible fucking lurgy in these cuts,” he grumbles, pulling out a big handkerchief and tearing it in half. Clumsily he tries to use his half to bind his hand and gives the other to me.
“C’m’ere.” I take his hand and suck at the cut I made, before bandaging it and holding out mine for him to do the same.
We wait in silence for what seems like hours and although we hear dogs, the sounds get fainter and go away. I dig him in the ribs and chuckle,
“You know, what, Jase? I guess we really did escape!”
Jason
Running through a wood isn’t exactly my idea of fun, but I sure as hell don’t want to go back to prison again. I try to ignore the painful ache in my sides and I start to believe smoking isn’t such a good idea after all.
I sprint after Frankie into the small shed standing there, finding my way in the dark to him, because his heavy breathing works like a GPS. I slump down next to him, taking deep breaths, which is a bloody mistake. The smell is horrible and I use my lighter to see where it comes from.
Worrying about tetanus, I allow Frankie to suck the wound in my hand and bandage me, then do the same for him.
We sit and wait until we hear all sounds of men and dogs die away. “You know, what, Jase? I guess we really did escape!” says Frankie and we laugh and get the hell out of that shithole. A few hundred yards away stands a smaller building and I try the door which is locked. I take a few steps back and then kick it open quite easily.
Peering in I start to laugh, “That’s fucking appropriate mate,” and I step aside so he can have a look at the motorcycle standing there. “An iron horse! Let’s hope there’s some petrol in it so we can gallop away.”
We pull it out together to give it a closer look. It has seen better days, but it isn’t that bad and quite big really. “Maybe that sheep farmer uses it,” Frankie says, while he takes the cap off the tank. “There’s enough gas in this baby to get us someplace safe. I’ll drive.”
“I found it,” I say, not giving in that easily, even though I never rode a bike as big as that.
“You drove the car,” he says, fumbling with the wires to get the bike started.
“You sure you can handle it?”
“I was fucking born on a bike. Of course I can.” He kick starts the pedal and the motor comes alive with a thunderous sound. I step on behind him, propping the bag with the loot in between us.
“Hang on,” he says and we’re off, Frankie riding the bike like he really is in a fucking horse race and me clinging to him desperately so as to not fall off.
Frankie
It’s a big, old, powerful bike and I whoop as we roar away, Jason’s arms around my waist, hanging on for grim death.
The bag is sandwiched between us and bumps against my spine and I can’t resist doing a triumphant wheelie as we break out of the trees and head across a field.
With two up, we nearly flip over backwards and Jason lets out a roar as his ass almost brushes the ground. He is cussing a blue streak and tightens his grip on me, so I can hardly breathe. I want to laugh, but it comes out as a snicker and I hope it’s drowned by the engine, ‘cause he is pretty mad at me already.
We cross a couple more fields and then we have to slow down, as we are approaching a dry stone wall and a 5 bar gate with a padlock and chain. On the other side of the gate is an asphalt road and aways down I can see the bulk of a farmhouse.
“That’s a relief,” sneers Jason as we draw to a halt. “Thought you fancied yourself as Evel Knievel, Hotshot, and we’d be jumping the fucking gate!”
“Don’t think I couldn’t do it! So, what do you want to do, brother? I can shoot off this padlock. Want to chance the road, where the cops are likely to be patrolling? Want to risk passing the farmhouse? This baby is pretty noisy.”
“Yeah, all we need is some old farmer running out and blasting us with his shotgun. Can’t risk a gunshot or the bike. Too fucking risky all round. Turn around and we’ll head back a bit. It’s best to stick to the fields for a while and I think we can go off up that way. We need a place to lie low for a bit and plan what to do next.”
Jason
The way Frankie rides the bike is plain madness and I’ll be back and blue tomorrow. I am more than a little pissed off that I need to cling to him like I am a little girl and I store it all away for further reference. I swear I will get back at him, if I survive this, that is.
I am almost grateful that he doesn’t do anything crazy when we reach the gate and when we’re driving through the field again he seems to have cooled down and I dare to loosen my grip on him a bit.
Some thirty minutes later we come to another gate but this time there’s nothing to be seen and we carry the bike over it and get on the road. We are quite nervous, but nothing happens and only one car and a tractor pass us by.
We both realise we will run out of fuel soon and when we see the small farmhouse we stop the motor at a safe distance, hide it in some bushes and go to have a closer look. A large sign reading “Cottages for rent” with a telephone number beneath it stands in the front garden, and it gives me an idea. We are still standing there when suddenly the door opens and an elderly woman steps out of the house and starts watering the plants near the porch.
“Right, I say, “you think we should go for one of these cottages?”
“Break into one you mean?”
“Don’t be fucking stupid, Frankie; we need to keep a low profile. We are actually going to pay this time. You still have that mobile phone? Give it here.”
I dial the number on the sign and we can see the woman turn around and listen. She puts down the watering can and goes inside.
“Home alone… good,” I say and Frankie and I grin at each other and then she picks up the phone.
Frankie
Jason winks at me as he sweet-talks the old biddy and politely enquires about the cottages. I give him a quick once-over, while he is talking and although he is still wearing the suit and shirt from the thrift store, he looks dishevelled and dirty and we both stink of that shed.
I can hear water running nearby and I look through the bushes and see a small stream running into the drainage ditch alongside the road.
When he clicks the phone shut, I pull him through the bushes and find the scarf I used hide my face during the robbery,
“Better clean up a little, brother, or Grandmamma will throw a fit, when she claps eyes on you.” I wet the scarf and step up to him to wash his face.
“Gerroff, you silly bugger,” he snatches the cloth from me , and uses it to clean his hands and face, combs his hair with his fingers and digs the tie out of his jacket pocket, while I brush him down.
“Well?”
“Well, you look a little more respectable, but there’s still a touch of ‘dragged through a hedge backwards’ about you. I wouldn’t be buying no used cars off you!”
“Arsehole! You’re no prize yourself. More like an escaped loony. Good job she seems as crazy as you. I’ve told her we had a car smash and need to stay a few nights. Now get cleaned up!”
I wash up as best as I can and then pick up the bag and follow Jason over to the farmhouse door. I figure I will let him do the talking, as the two-faced asshole is obviously able to turn on the charm.
True enough, he smiles at the old bat as she opens the door,
“Ah, Mrs Pryce, I called a short time ago.”
“Oh yes, what was it you said your name was?”
“Ryder, John Ryder and this is my brother, Joey.”
Jason
I swear there’s something wrong with that woman, she sounds weird, but that might be a good thing for me and Frankie. I tell her a tale about a car crash and she seems to take it all in good faith and urges me and my ‘sweet brother’ to her place and she’ll rent us the best cottage she has.
After telling her we were in a car crash I am not too worried about how we look and a quick wash and brush-up seems enough. We both need to eat, wash, and sleep now, so I walk to the house, Frankie following in my footsteps and a little behind.
The old girl opens the door and she seems friendly enough, a wrinkled face with lively blue eyes underneath a grey perm that screams for a visit to the hairdresser.
“Step in, John and Joey; those are both my favourite names! You boys want a cuppa, or maybe something a bit stronger?”
I can see Frankie opening his mouth, but I cut him off sharply.
“That’s very kind of you Mrs. Pryce, but we really need a shower and a bit of a rest. Maybe later?”
“Of course,” she says, “but why don’t you come and have dinner with me after you have showered and settled in? The nearest restaurant is about 5 miles away and the supermarket too. How about a home cooked meal?”
“That’s very kind of you and we’ll gladly accept,” I say, because I am fucking starving. “Now about that cottage..?”
“Oh yes, here’s the key! It’s the one right behind the house; it’s called Walker after one of my dear cats.”
I take the key from her and I can smell, even from the hall, that she has more cats than one.
“So how much do we owe you?”
“I take it you boys cater for yourselves?” she asks and for a moment I have a vision of Frankie baking a pie and wearing a frilly apron and I suppress a grin. “Yes,” and then I pay her from the shopkeeper’s money.
“You remind me a little of my late husband,” she tells me. “He was a scientist and a saint, even though he had his naughty moments.”
I scowl at Frankie, laughing like a loon when the door shuts behind us and we walk to our cottage.
Frankie
“Shit, looks like I needn’t have worried how we smelled! She smells worse!” I snicker to Jason as we walk over to the cottage.
“Cats!” he mutters and opens the front door of the place with ‘Walker’ painted in yellow on a bright green sign decorated with daffodils.
“No kidding! And you agreed to eat with her! She’s probably the local witch and it’ll be bat stew, stirred with her broomstick!”
He tells me that right now, he’d be prepared to eat bat stew or even cat stew and it starts me off laughing again, so he drags me inside and kicks the door shut, slamming me up against the wall,
“Pack it in you bloody maniac. I never warned her my brother was not all there.”
“Well you remind her of her late husband, the mad scientist. By the look of her, he probably made her out of bits of bodies he dug up. Better lock your bedroom door in case she comes prowling in the night for a little trip down memory lane.”
He growls and bangs my head against the wall leaning in and kissing me fiercely, keeping me pinned with his body and holding my head in place. It makes me hard, but I manage to work my hands up to his chest and give him a hefty push.
“Bathroom”, I remind him, hoping we do have one. This ‘cottage’ is pretty old and basic.
I get a grunt in reply and we go in search of the bathroom, which turns out to be downstairs, just off the kitchen. There’s a closet with a hot water tank and a stack of threadbare, but cleanish towels and a huge tub with claw feet.
There’s a shower head attached over the bath tub, but I figure it would be fun to share,
“Bath night, brother,” I say as I put in the plug and open the faucets.”
Jason
I almost rip off my clothes in my haste to get into the bath, because I hate being filthy, but then I remember I haven’t got any clean clothes and I will have to put them back on again.
I pick a hanger from one of the bedroom wardrobes, put my suit on it, then go out at the back of the cottage and hang it on a low branch of a small tree. At least there’ll be some fresh air going through it.
“Remind me to buy some clean clothes tomorrow,” I say to Frankie who is already sprawled out in the bath.
“Where did you go?”
“Outside, to hang my suit out and let some fresh air into it.””
“Let’s hope there aren’t any thieves like us around. You will have to go to dinner naked!”
“Cut it out and shove up, you bastard.”
The tub is nice and the water warm enough. Even though there’s only a bar of soap instead of my normal bubbles, it feels good. “Turn around,” I say, “I’ll wash your back and then you can wash mine,” and for once he doesn’t argue but turns around until he is sitting between my spread legs.
I slowly soap his back and then let my hand slip around to give his chest the same treatment. He mutters something under his breath, but his body goes pliant and I drop the hand with the soap a bit lower so I can wash his belly.
“You’re better company when you’re naked, but still a bit of a fucking handful,” I say while I drop the soap into the water and let my slippery hand close over his cock. He hisses and jerks, sliding down a bit, so he can stick his feet on the other side of the tub and steady himself.
“Fuck,” he breathes and tries to push up, causing small waves of water that spill over the tub.
“Later,” I promise and speed up the movement of my hand until he gasps and comes, cock spurting over my hand and into the water.
Frankie
It’s kind of nice to shed my clothes and slide into the warm water and even nicer, when he finally joins me.
He’s hung his suit outside to give it an airing and the thought of it getting stolen makes me laugh again. Wouldn’t put it past Ma Pryce to sneak out and make away with it. He has told me to turn around and before I know it, I am leaning back against him and he is soaping my back. Naturally, this makes my cock sit up and take notice, peeking out of the water like the conning tower of a little sub.
A big hand moves around, soaping my belly and smoothly travels on down to capture my cock. It doesn’t take much to make me come and cause a small tidal wave.*Fuck*
As I come down, I can feel his wood pressing into my back, so I guess fair is fair and I pull up my knees and roll over to kneel in front of him. There’s now more water on the floor than in the bath. Hope he is good with a mop!
I curl the fingers of my right hand around his cock and start to jerk him off with long strokes. He watches me with narrowed eyes, his hands gripping the sides of the tub.
I walk the fingers of my left hand around his hip and they dive underwater and grope for his ass.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he gasps, fighting for breath as I give a little flick and twirl on the upstrokes.
“Just looking for the soap, brother,” I snigger, as I find his hole and shove two fingers in, roughly.
He yelps in surprise and comes hard. I give him a final squeeze and use my arms to pry myself out if the bathtub and step out.
I grab a towel and throw one to him, while I paddle about in the water on the floor and you know in a weird way, this does remind me of bath night back home as a kid with brother Joe – even down to the jerking off!
Summary: Jason and Frankie are still on the run.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Crossovers Pairing: Jason Locke/Frank Roberts
Warnings: ViolenceChallenges:
Series: Bad Blood 2Chapters: 6 Completed: Yes
Word count: 20596 Read: 7619
Published: 04 Aug 2009 Updated: 04 Aug 2009