The Spark Series

Street Rat

"Well, if it isn't the street rat."

Brian froze, his head still under the hood of the crap car as he considered all the possible responses to that voice. He'd thought about this moment… obsessed over it, really, but somehow he hadn't ever expected it to really happen.

"Dom," he said as he carefully stood. He laid the wrench on the side of the car and grabbed a rag as he turned around. He didn't know what he expected, but the lack of a gun or other deadly weapon was a surprise. The plain brown Volvo parked at the curb was a bigger one.

"That's all you got to say?" Dom asked, his eyebrows going up.

"Not really much to say," Brian agreed. "You have some reason for tracking me down, something other than making bad Aladdin allusions?"

"Allusions," Dom nodded knowingly. "Big word for you. Then again, I suppose you're a college boy as well as a cop." Dom moved slowly around the car Brian had towed back from the scene of the accident where he'd bought it. The side was still caved in, but Brian planned on going to the junkyard and getting new parts later. First, he needed to get the engine running. Dom ran a large hand over the ripples in the front panel where a tree had stopped the car.

"I'm not either," Brian finally answered. If Dom had come back for a little revenge, there really wasn't much he could do. He had given up his weapon with his badge, and his chances of taking Dom were about as good as his old boss showing up and telling him that all was forgiven after he'd fucked up the undercover opportunity of a lifetime. Brian didn't believe in fairy tales… not any more.

"Yeah, heard about that. Cops tossed you out like yesterday's garbage."

"Shit happens," Brain agreed. Dom continued to stalk around the car, his eyes focused on the machine, but Brian still couldn't escape the feeling he was being judged, and he probably came out about as high in Dom's books as the torn up Ford hatchback.

"Shit happens?" Dom echoed. "You fuck my sister to get in good with me. You fucking write reports to the cops about me and mine, and shit happens is the best you can do? I should have let Vince take care of you." Dom continued to focus on the car, his words sounded as mild as a housewife offering a cake recipe, but cold shivers ran down Brian's back. This was getting ugly.

"I didn't… I liked Mia. I never meant for it to go that far," Brian tried to explain. "Hell, she scares me about as bad as you, so pissing her off was never on my to-do list. It just… it happened."

Now Dom looked at him, his sharp eyes pinning Brian in place and making Brian remember the file he'd seem, making him remember a man who had been beaten past recognition. That man had threatened Dom's family, too.

Brian sighed. No way was Dom buying that lame-ass excuse, and maybe he shouldn't. "You shouldn't be here. The cops still sometimes come by, check on me." Brian wiped his hands, more of sweat than of grease, before he started for the front door of his tiny duplex. Check on him. More like harass him—the cop who'd let Toretto walk away. Brian hadn't gotten more than two steps before a large hand grabbed his arm and stopped him. Without turning around, Brian waited.

"Where's the family? Ma and Pa Cop?"

He couldn’t help it, Brian laughed. "Yeah, well my family was a little less than thrilled with the way this all ended up. The juvie record they could just call boys being boys, but this…" Brian waved his hand at the universe in general. Dom didn't answer for long, heavy seconds, and Brian braced himself for the coming punches. He had fucked Dom's sister… and he'd hurt her. He'd called in the cops when Vince got hurt; he'd spied on all of them. He hadn't stopped Tran from killing Jesse. Oh yeah, he had a lot of sins, not even counting the ones the cops cared about.

"Vince is still in," Dom said.

"Yeah, I know. But not because I testified against him." Brian continued to focus on the house. The front had a big crack going from under the bedroom window to the foundation, the gutters had fallen from one side so that they dangled from the roofline, and the whole thing needed painting. Maybe he should take a break from fixing up cars and do a deal with the landlord to fix up the house a little.

"I don't get you." Dom tightened his grip, and Brian struggled against an instinctive need to pull away. It wouldn't do him any good, not against Dom, and if he planned to come out of this without needing extensive hospitalization, he needed to avoid pissing Dom off any more than he already had.

"What's to get? Look, they sent me in undercover because I know cars. From their point of view, I fucked up the job—let myself get too damn close to you, to Mia, to Jesse."

"That how you see it?"

"Doesn't matter how I see it. Now, are you planning on us fighting because if you do, I'm just too fucking tired right now, Dom." Brian looked over his shoulder, and Dom was studying him, his fingers still making bruises on Brian's arm. "And if you don't plan on beating the shit out of me, I'm hot and I'm still just too fucking tired to have this conversation."

Dom cocked his head. "Nice place."

Brian didn't answer. He just stood in his dirt yard with a wanted felon holding him tightly enough to leave marks, wondering if he was going to survive this encounter, and strangely, he found he didn't care enough to try and do anything about it.

"Get in the car," Dom said without letting go of Brian's arm.

Brian started shaking his head. "No way. No fucking way. You want some sort of revenge for Mia, fine, take it, but I'm not about to get in a car with you, Dom." Brian paused. "Not after what I did."

"When I came here I didn't know what the hell I was going to do, but I take care of family. It's what I do," Dom said quietly.

"Yeah, I get that. But there's a limit to what you can expect me to go along with. So, you want to get in a few hits for Mia, you go for it. And then you take off before someone calls the cops, not that they'll show up very fast in this neighborhood."

Dom stared at him for a long time, and Brian waited, his stomach heavy and his heart pounding until he could feel it strain in his chest. Fear, he realized distantly, but he couldn't feel it the way he had when Vince had been dangling from the side of a truck and Brian had raced to save him before he could bleed to death. No, he felt this strange new breed of fear that he'd first felt in the station when he'd given his statement to his fellow officers. He felt a fear that crawled up into his belly and then circled and settled down like a familiar cat finding a warm spot in the sun.

"Get in the car," Dom repeated as he started pulling. Even though Brian set his feet firmly in the dry dust of his dead front yard, he felt himself pulled inexorably toward Dom's Volvo.

"You don't want to do this," Brian tried arguing, even though Dom's stubborn face made it very clear that he did. "You don't want to be a murderer."

That stopped Dom. "You stupid little shit. You think I'd kill you over Mia?" Dom asked as he suddenly let go. Brian stumbled back several steps before he could catch his balance. "Mia's a big girl, and she could have castrated you herself if she thought you were worth it." Dom crossed his arms over his chest, and Brian didn't really have any answer since he was totally confused. Now Dom looked less pissed than he did just flat-out amused.

"When I came here, I figured you'd be back to being the cop, but you aren't. You're still the same snot-nosed kid with his head in an engine. The cop I would have beat the shit out of, not because of Mia, but because he fucked with me and mine. But…" Dom stopped. Even though Brian thought he had followed that logic, he didn't dare let himself believe. He held his breath.

"Brian, the grease monkey who saved me from the cops and nearly got himself killed saving Vince's sorry ass—he's one of mine, and I don't leave mine behind. Now get in the car, Brian."

"Dom," Brian said softly.

"There's nothing around here you need. So get your ass in the car before I kick it up between your shoulder blades and toss you in the car, Bri," Dom threatened.

"This is crazy." Brian stepped forward, toward Dom, and Dom just stared back at him. "I have a landlord, bills."

"Tough shit," Dom shrugged. He turned around and headed for the curb. "Get the lead out, O'Conner," Dom called from the street. Brian took one last look at the house: the tinfoil in the front window, the tilting TV antenna, the screen door you had to lift to open or it fell off its hinges.

Brian dropped the greasy rag on the ground and headed for the Volvo just as Dom gunned the engine. It roared to life and then quietly purred, the sound completely at odds with the plain body. Hurrying now, Brian pulled open the door and slid in next to Dom.

"'bout damn time. Shit, you're slow," Dom complained.

"Sometimes," Brian agreed with an amiable shrug. "But I catch on eventually."

Dom revved the engine one last time before slipping it into gear and pulling away from the curb and away from the life Brian had hobbled together.

Read Readers' Comments



Too Much Tequila and Truth

"You only won because I didn't want to run you off the road," Brian argued as he handed over another beer and dropped onto the couch. Okay, collapsed might be a better word for it since technically his knees sort of gave out from under him without warning. He eyed his beer and tried to make the bottle come into focus.

Dom snorted. "Dream on," he said. He offered Brian more tequila, but Brian waved it away. He shouldn't be having the beer, but it gave him something to hold on to as he sat and stared out at the tiny, multicolored houses and dusty streets of the place that had become home. If he was going to be honest with himself, he should probably go vomit before the rest of the booze hit his blood, but he was too drunk and too lazy to care. Besides, if he just sat really still for the next hour or so, he could probably avoid vomiting altogether. Dom put the tequila on the mosaic table and drank his own beer.

"Could have had ya on the third shturn," Brian pointed out. Dom looked at him, and that almost looked amused. Sometimes when Dom looked at him like that, Brian couldn't help but think of Rome and the way his friend would smile right before he'd pin Brian up against some wall. It was simpler then. He followed, Rome led. And then Rome had slipped over into doing shit that could really get them in real trouble, and Brian had chickened out. Funny how Brian still ended up following in a way. Letting Dom escape from police custody wasn't exactly on the law-abiding side of the fence.

"O'Connor, you never had a chance," Dom argued without even looking drunk. He never looked drunk. Brian had seen the man sweaty, angry, sleepy, hung-over, and once he even saw a mood that had come frightening close to chipper, but he hadn't ever seen Dom look drunk, and right now that didn't seem fair.

"Did, too."

Dom really did give him an amused look now, and Brian smiled back.

"You can't hold your tequila for shit," Dom announced. Brian just let his head fall back against the old dusty couch on their old dusty porch in the old dusty town just north of the Guatemala border.

"Could haddya."

Dom reached over and popped the side of Brian's head. Maybe it was the contact, Dom's hot hand against his cheek. Maybe it was the tequila.

"We should fuck," Brian said, still looking at the underside of the porch. He could see strips of black sky and bright stars through the pale blue slats, streaks of brown wood showing through in long lines.

"What?" Dom barked, and Brian blinked and rolled his head to the side to look at Dom. That wasn't a good expression.

"What what?" Brian asked, and a little hard and scabby thought chased through his fuzzy brain.

"What did you just say?" Dom put his beer on the table next to the tequila and leaned forward.

"I couldha had you on the turn," Brian answered as panic started to form, driving clear, sharp thoughts into his mind with brutal fear. He was pretty sure Dom didn't want to hear the other part again, and Brian was going to pretend that had never left his lips. That and he was never again drinking tequila.

"After that," Dom said as he leaned so far forward he was practically hovering over Brian. The tequila was obviously more potent than his common sense because the truth slipped out before he could edit it.

"We should fuck."

Dom's eyebrows went up. "I thought that's what you said."

"Look, I'm drunk," Brian immediately started backpedaling. "Very drunk. I think I should go lay down," he scooted off the end of the couch and nearly fell over as his hand missed the coffee table and he ended up with his palm on the floor and his ass in the air, which probably wasn't the best for his head which instantly started throbbing. Brian collapsed to his knees between the mosaic coffee table and the old couch, his nose pressed to the faded whitewash of the floorboards.

"Fuck," Dom cursed. "Jose, come give me a hand with this atún." Dom yelled loud enough to make Brian's head start throbbing.

"Not a fish," Brian complained as he tried to push himself up. He got as far as being on his hands and knees.

"You've drunk enough to get stupid, and when you're on the run, that's seems pretty fish-brained to me," Dom disagreed as he got his hands around one of Brian's arms. Jose came out, the screen door banging against the house as he added a few choice words about Brian's attempts to crawl with Dom yanking on his arm.

"Get his other arm," Dom growled. "Let's get this lush poured into his bed before he starts throwing up. If he's going to vomit, let him do it in his own bed where only he has to step in it."

Jose just laughed as he got Brian's other arm and the two men just about dragged Brian to his small bedroom beside the kitchen. Only Dom stayed behind to double check that the window was locked and put the trashcan strategically close to the side of Brian's bed.

"Dom?" Brian asked fuzzily.


"Let's just forget it. Didn't mean it."

Dom stopped near the door, but Brian could only see from his knees down. Dom's knees didn't seem particularly pissed as they just stood there. "We can talk in the morning."

"Can not talk in the morning too," Brian pointed out mulishly. He was... he was almost happy down here. He didn't want to lose what little peace he'd found since he'd flushed his life down the toilet. Funny, he couldn't decide if the flushing started when he'd sold out his badge or when he'd sold out Dom. He had a funny feeling it wasn't the badge.

"Oh, we're definitely talking in the morning, hopefully when both of us are a little more sober because I am not having this conversation right now." And then Dom was gone. Brian didn't really have much time for a pity party because the rolling in his head pounded out all thought until he finally slipped into a restless sleep.

Morning came with knives of light through the shutters, and Brian rolled away from them, throwing up his arm to protect his throbbing head before it could explode. Fuck. Double fuck. Man, he never should have followed Dom into drinking that tequila. Beer. He could handle beer. Brian rolled off the bed and tripped over the garbage can, sending it skittering across the bare wood floor until it crashed against the wall. Aw fuck. That hurt. Brian put his head in his hands and tried to control the throbbing in his brain. Definitely no more tequila for him.

Brian was in the bathroom, hand on his cock and pissing into toilet when the memory crept in on him. He'd asked Dom to fuck him. Oh shit. Even worse, Dom said they'd deal with it this morning. Brian closed his eyes and fought down the nausea that tried to creep up his throat. Fuck.

Zipping up his jeans, Brian wandered cautiously into the hall. No sign of Jose, but then he'd been planning to hit the junkyard this morning. No sign of Dom, but even though the man never seemed drunk the night before, he always felt the hangover the next morning. He was probably still in bed nursing a worse headache than Brian had.

The path to the kitchen was clear. He could hear their neighbor's radio blasting No Tengo Nada by Intocable, but other than that, the house was weirdly silent.

Quererte hasta el final
No tengo mas
Te lo has llevado todo
Y me he quedado solo
Llorandote, soandote, amandote
No tengo nada

Words drifted through the open windows and thin walls as Brian shoved food between two slices of bread as fast as he could. His stomach didn't really want him to eat, but the food would help him sober up faster, and right now, Brian needed fast. Brian needed very fast.

Shoving his feet into shoes and a few pieces of clothing into a spare garbage bag, Brian headed for the cars. The Skyline was faster, but most of the time he drove the Eclipse. Of course, they were both technically Dom's cars, but Brian had helped fix them up, just like he'd helped Dom fix up all the other cars they'd sold, so he wasn't feeling too bad about stealing one. Brian threw his bag into the Eclipse and headed for the 190, leaving one more life behind. He was getting good at that.

Minutes and then hours clicked by as Brian headed north, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do now. A little over five hundred pesos in his pocket, a half tank of gas, and some luck might get him to the border… maybe. If he didn't need to eat. Shit. A little piece of Brian wondered if he should just head back and try to make things right with Dom. The man certainly hadn't killed Brian over working undercover, so there was a chance Dom would just set down a few rules about how Brian needed to keep his mouth shut on some things. Maybe a short fistfight where Brian took a few hits.

The idea that he could somehow clear the books with Dom and make this right almost made him turn around when he hit Tuxtla Gutierrez, but Brian had made that mistake before. After Rome, he'd let his cock make him stupid twice, and twice he'd been beat damn near unconscious. The difference was that this time the man he'd gotten stupid with was Dom, and Brian depended on Dom for everything from money to fake IDs to a place to live. Running with a car and very little else wasn't nearly as bad as being left bruised on the side of the road with no car, and Brian couldn't afford to make another bad choice. Not now.

He wondered if there were warrants out for him in the U.S. The lawyer his folks had hired convinced him to stay in L.A. until the cops had stopped trying to find creative ways to send him to prison, but his disappearance would have sent red flags up all over the P.D. They probably had material witness warrants out if they couldn't get a judge to sign off on anything else, so Brian needed to stay under the radar, at least long enough for Dom to get relocated. No way did Brian intend to give them Dom's address, but if they got him, they got the car and Brian's shiny new New Mexico driver's license naming him Brian Puery. With that, they could backtrack him straight to Dom's place. So, he needed to stay under the radar and out of custody.

Brian made it to the dusty and quiet fields west of Ocozocoautla de Espinosa before the police car appeared on his tail, lights flashing. For a second, Brian considered opening the throttle and running, just living a quarter mile at a time until he ran out of road or gas, but the police down here weren't the same. And ever since the Oaxacan Indians had been making more trouble about their rights, the police had been a whole lot quicker to shoot at people fleeing. Brian wasn't ready to die, not yet. So he down-shifted and let the Eclipse coast to the side of the road where he parked and waited behind the wheel.

An old truck rumbled by, and then the road was quiet as the cop got out, his hand already on his gun as he walked up to the Eclipse. Brian left his hands on the wheel in plain sight.

"Hola, officer," Brian said in that accent that always made Dom laugh when he tried speaking Spanish.

"Step out, please," the Federale said, hand still on gun and watching warily. Brian remembered this—the adrenaline of a stop, wondering if the person in the car was going to do something, or if you would have to. He moved slowly, opening the car door and leaving it wide open as he got out.

"Hands on the hood," the man said without emotion and with a thick accent. Brian didn't argue as he walked around and put his hands on the side fender, leaning forward and spreading his legs into position. A hand quickly and efficiently searched him, finding nothing. "Hands behind your back." Brian complied and found himself cuffed and escorted to the back of the Eclipse where the officer left him standing in the sun while he went and used the police radio in his car.

Maybe things were a whole lot worse that Brian knew. Maybe there were warrants out for him, warrants that had reached into the Federales databases and only Dom's contacts with the local police had kept them from getting arrested and extradited. Brian closed his eyes and leaned back on the trunk. At least now he didn't have to worry because whatever was going to happen would happen and there wasn't a fucking thing he could do to change it. Five hundred pesos wouldn't bribe his way out of a parking ticket much less anything more serious, and this was looking fairly serious.

The cop pulled out a phone, and had a conversation on that, his eyes still focused on Brian. Eventually, he closed it and got out again.

"Officer, what's going on?"

"Stay here," he ordered tersely, and Brian did that as the officer went through the Eclipse. He dumped Brian's clothes out on the street and shook the garbage bag. He pulled off one of the door panels and reached under the seats. When he came to the back of the car, keys in hand, Brian just moved off to the side so the officer could get in the trunk where he pulled out the spare and ripped up a corner of the trunk carpet to check under it.

Eventually, he gave up and slammed the trunk closed again before circling the car, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as he just circled. Brian went back to leaning and waiting. It took another hour or so before the cop's phone rang and he answered it. Brian caught enough Spanish to know the cop was impatient and wanted his money, but Brian couldn't get much more than that. Brian didn't figure out what that meant until the bright blue Skyline appeared in the distance.

Brian could only stand and watch as Dom pulled in behind the cop car, Jose getting out the passenger side as they closed the distance.

"Dom?" Brian asked.

"You do get yourself in trouble, don't you?" Dom didn't wait for an answer but just walked past Brian to the front where the officer was waiting.

"Baboso," Jose said as he leaned on the trunk next to Brian and pulled out a cigarette of his own. "Dom's going to take that bribe right out of your hide, Bolillo."

"What bribe?" Brian turned around and found Dom and the cop laughing, Dom giving the cop a slap on the arm as they chatted in profanity-laced sentences that Brian couldn't keep up with.

"He had every bribable Federale he could find looking for you, Bolillo. Offered them fifteen hundred pesos for rounding your ass up and holding it until he could get here. Don't know what the hell you did this morning, but it left him about as pissed as a hung-over bear."

Brian flinched at that thought. Maybe he should have hitched with a trucker instead of taking the Eclipse.

"Jose, drive Bri's car. He's riding with me," Dom said as he came back toward them. The Federale was counting his money and Dom just caught Brian's arm as he passed, pulling him back toward the Skyline.

"Whoa, hey," Brian said as he followed. "Dom, you want to uncuff me?"

"No." Dom dragged him to the passenger side and opened the door. "If you don't trust me, I figure the cuffs will at least make you stay put," he said as he pushed Brian into the car and then reached in to fasten the seat belt over Brian.

"I never said I didn't trust you," Brian argued as he squirmed around and tried to get comfortable with his hands behind him. Dom slammed the door without answering, and all Brian could do was wait. Dom had a last word with the cop and then came back to the car.

"That stunt cost me seven thousand pesos," Dom growled as he got in and started the car. He gave the engine too much gas and it roared out of control for a second.

"Seven thousand?" Brian swallowed. "Jose said fifteen hundred."

"Yeah, well that pendejo took one look at your sweet face and decided you're some rich American I'm holding for ransom. Your price went up."

Brian couldn't come up with anything to say about that, so he just silently watched as Dom did a U-turn and headed back down the road. Jose was already ahead of them and pulling farther and farther ahead because Dom didn't seem in any hurry.

"I'm sorry," Brian said softly, and he was. He was sorry he couldn't hold his tequila, he was sorry he'd propositioned Dom, he was sorry he'd stolen the car and he was really sorry he'd got caught.

"You make a habit out of assuming the worst, don't you?" Dom asked, his eyes on the road, but he had that tight expression on his face and his knuckles were white from gripping the wheel.


"Why you run?"

Brian didn't even bother answering that it was so obvious.

"So, either you thought I'd beat the shit out of you or you've really lost your mind and you thought I'd kill you over some stupid, drunken comment."

"Beat the shit out of," Brian admitted softly. Dom snorted.

"At least it's not like in L.A. where you assumed I'd track your sorry ass down just to kill you." Dom didn't say anything after that, and Brian settled on watching the landscape. "We gonna talk about this?" Dom eventually asked.

"I was drunk. I'm sorry I ever said anything," Brian quickly answered while focusing on a farmer, a huge tail of dust following his tractor across the field.

"You still feel that way?"

"Right now? No." Brian pulled against the handcuffs. They were coming into town now, and Dom stopped at a corner. "Will you take the cuffs off?" Brian asked.

"After the stunt you pulled, you're lucky you aren't in the trunk," Dom said, and that almost sounded amused. "But those are staying on until we have our conversation because you are too quick to assume the worst from me."

"I don't—" Brian stopped when Dom turned his head and glared.

"In L.A., you thought I was going to kill you over Mia," Dom pointed out, "and this morning you stole my fucking car just to avoid facing me."

"I didn't think either of us wanted a scene."

"You were wrong," Dom snapped. Brian just bit his tongue, and Dom rubbed his head for a second. "Fuck. Don't you think you owed me something before you took off?"

"I owe you a lot, more than I can pay, and I know that," Brian squirmed a bit to really face Dom. "I own you enough that I know you don't deserve to have a faggot in your house… a puto, a marica " Brian snapped out the ugliest words he could think of.

Instead of getting upset, Dom just gave a low laugh. "I can't get you to remember the word for apples from one day to the next, but those you remember. Brian, you're all kinds of fucked up."

"I know this," Brian sighed.

"Right, so time for some honesty. Either that, or you're going to be wearing cuffs for a long time. How long have you wanted to fuck me?"

Dom said the words quietly, but they sent a shockwave through Brian. "I *never* said I wanted to fuck you," he immediately protested. He couldn't see Dom letting anyone fuck him, so no way in fucking hell would Brian quality for the job.

Dom nodded. "That answers one question. You done it before or have you been watching too much Oprah and just decided to let your inner queer out?"

"I…" Brian stopped and looked out the window at the traffic. He didn't have much to lose at this point, and somehow he doubted Dom was joking about leaving him cuffed. Brian rolled his shoulder and tried to work the ache out of it for a second. "I had one guy I used to sleep with. After a couple of bad experiences, I just stuck with girls after a while."


Brian looked at Dom's profile. The man didn't seem upset, but Brian still wasn't sure this wasn't leading up to a good beating. "I really liked her. She was aggressive, which I always liked. If things hadn't gone so wrong, I could see myself settling down with her… except for the part where she threatened to castrate me with a butter knife last time she visited."

"She'll get over it," Dom shrugged. "So, when she does get over it, you have any interest in getting back with her?"

"I'll drag her right back into the investigation, same as you. It's better if I'm not part of her life."

"You are thick," Dom snorted as he pulled around an old Studebaker. "What I'm trying to ask is if you didn't have to be afraid of someone bashing you over the head, would you rather have a man or a woman?"

"I don't know," Brian answered honestly. For a long time he'd just wanted Rome, but after Rome, he started noticing the women more than the men, but it was always the aggressive women, and Mia… she seemed quiet outside, but the minute you pushed her one inch too far, you found that steel just under her skin. Brian really had liked her… a lot.

"I don't know what you expect from this," Dom said in the silence. They were leaving the small town that had interrupted the dusty farms and Brian searched for something to catch his attention. A couple of kids played in the ditch and a stray dog chased around them, his tail wagging.

"I'm hoping we can just forget it," Brian eventually said when the silence suggested that Dom was waiting for some answer.

"In prison," Dom said slowly, and Brian cringed. Yep, this was where Dom talked about how he understood, but he didn't. If Dom did something in prison, it was because there weren't any women; it wasn't because he was attracted to men. "The queers were all in their own section, away from the main population," Dom explained. "Two guys had a couple of options. Sometimes they'd get each other off, fast and dirty, and then retreat to opposite sides of the cell and try to never mention it again. Is that what you're looking for?"

"What? No. Dom, I'm not looking for anything. Can't we just forget I ever said anything?" he begged.

"The other option was when one man was paying off another, maybe for protection or drugs. They wouldn't be as quiet about it as the first sort. The bone, the one who was being the man, he sets the rules about how and what, and when he calls, his punk answers or you know he's going to be walking funny in the morning, might even be turned out."

Brian didn't say anything. For miles they sat in silence, and Brian eventually closed his eyes and just felt the rumble of the engine. They were about half way there, driving through a small Indian village where several burned out cars sat as silent reminders that the police and the locals weren't on good terms right now.

"I don't want to lose your friendship," Brian eventually offered. Dom didn't answer right away.

"It's not like I never noticed you," Dom finally said as he pulled the car over under a tree with wide-spread branches, and Brian could feel his guts tighten. He didn't want Dom's undivided attention, not right now when he was so raw and not when he was cuffed and trapped in the car. He warily watched as Dom turned off the ignition.

"I wasn't roses and hearts with Letty, and I'm really not feeling the need to be that way with you, but I also don't have anything against you in my bed. I just have something against you thinking I'm your bone, and that you need to pay up. You don't owe me." Dom continued to stare out the front window.

"Fuck. I can't even pay for my own food. You got my ID, you get the cars, you just paid off some cop, and I'll never be able to repay you," Brian disagreed. That made Dom turn on him, and Brian couldn't help it, he jerked back just from the intensity of that gaze.

"You gave me my freedom. You shit all over your own life to do that, so don't give me this crap about you owing me. And you could have bought yourself some slack by testifying against Vince. Why didn't you? Were you so fond of Vince that you didn't want to get him in more shit, or were you doing that for me, too?"

"I just… he didn't deserve to take the hit for everything," Brian said with a frown. The truth was he didn't like Vince, but he hadn't considered testifying for even one second.

"See, that's it. You stabbed your own people in the back, but you've been loyal to me and mine even when I couldn't touch you anymore," Dom pointed out. "That's the part that doesn't make sense to me, only now, I'm starting to think it does."

"What?" Brian shifted uncomfortably.

"Another man would have been cursing me out about those cuffs by now."

"I would if I thought it would do me any good."

"When the cops found you next to my wrecked car, they arrest you?"

Brian studied Dom, feeling like he was walking out on unstable ice, but if this was a game, Brian wasn't understanding the rules. "No," he said slowly. "They gave me a ride back to command where I filled out a report. I spent about six hours with my boss asking me the same questions over and over. The arrest came the next morning after I'd gone home."

Dom nodded slowly. "They handcuff you?"

"Yeah. Standard operation procedure."

"They leave you cuffed at the station while your fellow officers were trying to figure out how to throw your ass in jail?"


"How many times you complain about the cuffs or ask them to take them off?" Dom asked. His voice was quiet and intense and he stared at Brian.

Brian finally figured out the game, and he refused to answer, just staring back until Dom slowly nodded. "A lot," Dom said with confidence. "You complained to them about those cuffs a lot, but with me, you'll sit there cuffed until I feel like taking them off, won't you?"

"I asked you to take them off, you said no," Brian pointed out sharply. He had complained—loudly and bitterly—about them cuffing him. It'd infuriated him. But Dom was right that he wasn't nearly as annoyed by the cuffs now, and Brian really didn't want to consider why that was.

"I also told you that you'll wear them until I think I'm getting the truth out of you, and I meant it," Dom said firmly as he turned back to the front and started the car. "So, this other man of yours. How much control did he have over your life?"


Dom snorted. "Stupid name. Was he as stupid as his name? Oh, wait. I bet that's the one you got in all your trouble with before you turned eighteen, wasn't it?" Dom pulled out behind a semi, and Brian shifted nervously. This conversation was going into territory where he didn't want Dominic Toretto stomping around.

"Did he leave you or the other way around?"

Again, Brian didn't answer.

"Here's how it works," Dom said, his voice still just as calm and friendly as if he was asking some pretty waitress for a glass of tea. "I ask a question, and you answer it. If I think you're telling the truth, I'll stop demanding an answer. I will only take those cuffs off when I think I've gotten the truth on everything I ask. So, I want you to think about the things you can't do with your hands cuffed behind your back and carefully consider just how long you're willing to stay cuffed. I'll repeat the question. Did he leave you or did you leave him?"

Brian sighed and stared at the liner in the roof of the Skyline. "I refused to follow him on some jobs he was doing. It was too risky and he was getting in too deep."

"He didn't take it well."

"He accused me of selling him out when he got caught and I walked away."

"And then you went and became a cop. How long were you two together?"

"Three years."


Brian flinched. He hated this answer, but he wasn't willing to lie and face hours or days in cuffs. "I was, he wasn't."

"You never topped." Dom didn't ask this, he just said it as fact, but Brian agreed with a soft, "Nope."

"I had a punk in prison. What you're suggesting doesn't shock me, but I don't want you doing it because you think you have to pay your way. Your way is already paid with me, Brian. It always will be."

"Dom, I know you don't—"

Brian stopped when Dom reached down and unzipped his pants. He hadn't worn underwear and his cock, already hard and quickly growing harder, popped out immediately. "I don't what, Brian?" Dom asked with a wicked smile. "Fuck, you're a pretty man. You'd get turned out in a second if you had gone to prison, and you risked that for me. I always told you I valued loyalty, and I don't think anyone ever showed quite that much loyalty to me. And then there's the fact that you're just sitting there cuffed, and willing to stay cuffed on my word. If I can teach you to stay where you're supposed to, I'd call you pretty close to perfect." Dom slowly stroked his erection, and Brian could feel his own cock harden as he stared--mesmerized by the sight.

"You're getting hard just knowing I’m hard, aren't you?" Dom asked with amusement. Brian didn't answer, but he did squirm in his seat as he tried to find a way to sit that didn't hurt either his arms or his hardening cock. He was really sorry he'd worn such tight jeans today.

"So, this is how I figure it. I don't plan on sleeping around, and as of now, you aren't either. You move your shit into my room, and from now on, when I tell you something you either do it or you talk to me, but you don't ever go running. Got it?"

Brian swallowed. "Got it."

"Don't figure we need to advertise, but I'm not going to hide this either."

"So, Jose?" Brian asked.

"Fuck, he told me you had a thing for me two months back, and I told him he was a crazy motherfucker. I don't think he'll be shocked." Dom ran his thumb over the head of his cock. "I wish this car was a little bigger. I wonder what you'd look like still cuffed, bent over and sucking me off as I drove.

Brian groaned in need and in pain as his cock fought with his jeans.

Dom laughed. "Oh yeah, I'm going to enjoy having you in my bed. And next time I tell you we'll talk in the morning, you're going to still have your ass in the bed and not make me drag myself out on the road, hangover and all, got it?" Dom's voice was stern, but Brian could see the hint of a smile.

"Got it," Brian agreed quickly. He got it, and he was going to enjoy having it, he thought to himself as he jealously watched Dom slowly stoke himself. He was going to enjoy it a whole lot.

Read Reader's Comments



Getting the Head Screwed On

"So." Brian swallowed heavily, and Dom kept tightening the bolts on the strut tower brace as he watched out of the corner of his eye. He never could keep up with the turns Brian's thoughts sometimes took, so it was usually easier to let him cough out whatever he was trying to cough out and then reel him back in once Dom had figured out his weirdness. Brian blurted the next bit. "You wanna fuck?" He had a tight, careful smile on his face, but Dom couldn't help but feel like Brian was up to some insanity… again.

"I'm a man," Dom answered as he grabbed a red rag and wiped his hands and the wrench he'd been using. "I always want to fuck," he shrugged as he pulled on the crotch of his jeans. And he did. Brian was looking incredibly fuckable as he stood there equal parts confrontation and nerves. Letty had been fun as hell, and Dom loved that edge of challenge and she'd been a challenging girl, but he'd found what he loved even more was the way Brian would slip from confrontation to submission under Dom's hands.

"It's like working in a fucking berreadero," Jose muttered as he slid out from under the car and tossed his wench in the toolbox.

"Ain't nobody getting paid for sex or using sex to do any paying, so shut your mouth," Dom snapped. The last thing he needed was Brian getting that crazy idea in his head again. Dom didn't pay for sex, and he sure as hell didn't expect his friends to spread their legs to pay for room and board.

"Crazy chingados," Jose muttered as he headed for the house, wiping his hands on his jeans as he let the door bang shut behind him.

"I didn't mean… I forgot he was under there," Brian rushed to say.

"So? I think he knows I'm fucking you, and I pretty sure he knows you're a willing participant." Dom dropped the rag onto the ground as he came forward, pinning Brian against the workbench, his groin pushed into Brian's as he reached forward and grabbed the back of Brian's neck. There was that moment of resistance, and then Brian relaxed, his back arching as he leaned back into the workbench, and his mouth opening to Dom.

Dom didn't ask permission. Let Brian talk or think too much, and the man had a habit of making wildly illogical jumps… like assuming that Dom would ever abandon him in some shithole to suffer the cops' wrath by himself. Dom didn't leave his people behind like that. But no matter how much Dom said those very words, the only time Brian ever relaxed and stopped watching with that guarded expression was when Dom showed him.

Reaching between them, Dom grabbed Brian's crotch hard enough to make the man raise up onto his toes, and Brian grunted into Dom's mouth, his hands grabbing at Dom's shoulders for balance. Dom just pressed in harder, pinning Brian in place and kissing him until Brian could only cling.

Dom pulled back, studying Brian's face as he still held Brian's dick in his hand. He tightened his hold just a little, and Brian's blue eyes sprang open as he gasped. "You had a question a second ago?" Dom asked calmly.

"I… uh…" Brian stuttered to a halt, hissing when Dom lifted just a little. One of Brian's feet shifted, stranding on the top of Dom's boot to give him a couple of centimeter's of height, just enough to take some of the pressure off. Dom smiled as Brian's hands tightened on Dom's shoulders without him making one complaint.

"What was your question?" Dom asked calmly even if his own cock was ready to rip through his jeans.

For a long second, Brian remained silent, and Dom just stared at him, waiting. "You wanna fuck?" Brian asked again, this time with a lot less challenge and a lot more uncertainty.

"I always want to fuck you, Brian. I love the way you can't catch your breath when I'm fucking you," Dom admitted as he finally let go of Brian's crotch and pulled the man away from the workbench with one hand around Brian's wrists, and the other around his back. "I love the way you feel under me, your warm body against the cool metal of some gutted car or you up on the hood of some racer still running hot."

Dom dropped Brian on the rear end of the Dodge Charger they'd been working on just minutes before and stepped between his legs, resting his hands on Brian's hips to keep him in place. For a half-second, he considered asking Brian what craziness had crawled in his head because Brian did not ever talk dirty and Brian did not ever start the sex. Oh, Brian had never turned Dom down… not once, but he sure as hell hadn't ever tried to start anything up. That half-second passed when Dom saw Brian's half-closed eyes and the way his lips were barely parted so Dom could just see inside. Fuck talking. He had better things to do.

Dom unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, letting his cock fall free, and Brian watched, his fingers splayed against the black metal of the trunk as he just waited. Without even trying to be particularly gentle, Dom pulled Brian's jeans open and then yanked the jeans and underwear down to Brian's thighs.

Panting a little harder now, Brian curled his hands into fists and allowed Dom to pull him off the car and turn him.

"Nice ass," Dom offered with a slap to that white skin before he quickly shoved a finger deep into Brian. Brian was breathing in loud rasps now as Dom did a quick check to make sure he wasn't too tight or too dry. Oh, the boy did have it bad because he was already slicked up good. Dom vaguely wondered when Brian had done that. Didn't really matter. Satisfied with what he found, Dom pulled his finger out of that tight heat and fisted his own cock, grunting with the pleasure and the pain of holding off his own orgasm.

"Fuck, Dom, you're killing me," Brian complained weakly, his breath now shallow and quick.

Without answering, he just drove in. He slammed into Brian so hard that flesh slapped against flesh and Brian slid up the hood of the car, his hands dragging across the metal as he tried to brace himself. And this was where Brian came alive. When Dom pulled back, Brian followed him, thrusting back so hard that Dom had to grab the man's shirt to keep his balance and then Dom slammed him forward again, their coupling creating a need so sharp, so intense that it was almost a pain. Brian was humming with his hands braced wide on the trunk as he arched his back, his back muscles coiling as he fought with Dom, against Dom. Their bodies slapped against each other.

Dom let go of Brian's shirt with one hand and caught Brian by the back of the neck, pinning him to the car, and Brian went still like a kitten grabbed by its mother, his legs opening as if by instinct as Dom took control of their coupling, thrusting into Brian harder and harder until the man was gasping—his mouth open and struggling for air. When Brian came, he stopped breathing altogether, his whole body tightening as Dom continued to thrust in over and over.

Dom's orgasm hit him so fast that he was almost caught off guard. He let his weight fall on Brian's back as he gave a few last short thrusts and rode out the wave of pleasure. Brian's curls smelled of lime and shampoo and shop grease as Dom lay there on top of his lover, covering the man with his own body as his cock slowly softened and slipped out of Brian one centimeter at a time. Sweat trickled down the inside of Dom's thighs and down his back, and he lay in the lazy heat of his garage and let the world slowly drift back into focus.

Under him, Brian was quiet, his breathing slow and regular as he lay with his cheek to the trunk and his eyes closed.

"I would say that yes, I did want to fuck," Dom said quietly.

"I caught that," Brian agreed with just a touch of sarcasm. Post-sex, Brian never could get his sarcasm to have any sort of edge to it.

Dom slipped free, his cock uncomfortably cool, even in the heat of the Mexican afternoon, and Dom sighed indecisively. Zipping up would mean a more comfortable cock, but he'd have to give up his very comfortable position on top of Brian. Not worth it. Instead Dom traced the back of Brian's arm, down to his wrist, before pinning the wrist to the car just for the pleasure of holding Brian down. Brian certainly didn't argue.

Eventually though, Dom could feel that nagging worry chew at the edges of some of his post-sex bliss. If Brian had some weirdness going on, Dom really did need to know before the kid did some runner and Dom had to go save him from himself again.

"Right then, what's up with you asking for a nooner in the middle of the shop?" Dom asked without moving off of Brian's back.

For a second, Brian remained silent, and he could tell that Brian was struggling with an urge to fight and an urge to yield. Dom didn't say anything since he pretty much knew which would win. Finally, Brian sighed.

"I guess I just wanted to know if I could."

"Could what? Talk dirty in front of Jose?"

The blush that spread across Brian's face amused Dom no end. Kid sucked as a poker player. It really was amazing he'd been as good as he was doing undercover work.

"I wanted to know I could ask," Brian said softly, and Dom pushed up, tucking his cock away as he studied Brian.

"Ask for sex?" Dom watched at the blush deepened. Brian shrugged and started tucking himself away. "You didn't think you could ask for sex?" Dom pressed. Brian hesitated, his fingers on his button without fastening it.

Shrugging again, Brian looked away at the shaded corners of the shop as he finished dressing.

"Fuck. Just spit it out, Brian. If I have to chase you down because you've got some shit going on in your head, I’m chaining you to the bed."

Brian turned so red that Dom was fairly sure the man was on the verge of passing out or something because he could not have enough blood left for all the internal organs.

"I'm not running," Brian quickly said. "That hasn't worked out well in the past."

"Worked out great if your goal was to end up in jail," Dom pointed out. If Brian had gotten to the border, Dom had no doubt that the border patrol would have picked him up on a material witness warrant if not an arrest warrant. Cops had to know that Dom had come back for him.

"I'd like to avoid jail."

"Like you're avoiding the question?"

Brian didn't answer right away; he just glared at Dom. Yeah, Dom liked the challenge and the submission. He raised one eyebrow, crossed his arms, and silently dared Brian to cross him on this one. Brian folded in less than a minute.

"I wanted to know if I could ask for sex or if I did, if you'd go denying our relationship."

Dom glanced at the milky white dribbles against the black car. "I don't think we can deny that we're in a relationship, and I really don't think we can deny that we're having sex."

Brian studied him with a doubtful expression for so long that the pieces slid into place in Dom's mind. Brian's first lover—every fucking hang-up Brian had came from that man. If Dom ever found Rome, he was beating the asshole's face into hamburger. Stepping forward, Dom caught Brian by the back of the neck and pulled him close. "Listen to me, you idiot. I like taking control but that doesn't ever mean that you can't ask me for what you need. In fact, consider this an order: If you need something, you tell me."

"It's not like I needed…"

Dom shut him up by kissing Brian so hard that the man was again left struggling for breath, his eyes closed and his lips swollen by the time Dom pulled back.

"Fine, you moron. Tell me what you want. I like having the control here, and I won't deny that, but part of the enjoyment is seeing you get what you want. If you don't tell me what you want, I don't to see that look on your face you get when something goes your way. What you want is always important to me. So, have you gotten this twisted shit out of your brain or is this going to be like when you thought I would kick your ass and we had that same fucking conversation five or six times?"

"No, we're clear," Brian hurried to say, and from the honest smile on his face, Dom figured they had avoided the crisis.

"Good because you drove Jose off, so you need to get your ass under that car and find me an oil leak," Dom pointed out as he let go of Brian and gave his ass a slap. Brian didn’t answer, but he gave Dom such a look of lust that Dom seriously considered just how fast he might be able to recover for round two. Damn but he did like having kid around.

"Oil leak, I'm on it," Brian agreed as he got down on the mechanic's creeper and slid under the car. Damn, Dom really didn't half mind the fugitive's life.

Read Reader's Comments


Return to Text Index

Return to Graphics Index

Send Feedback