System Down

System Down by Jaden56

Soriel was in bed, managing an impressive sprawl that covered the expanse of his slightly lumpy mattress. He was snoring deeply into his pillow, the cotton casing lovingly lathered with drool and steamed over with morning breath. His orange-streaked blond hair was crazily spiked around his head in the way only an uninterrupted night of tossing and unconscious flailing could produce.

*SHREEEEEEEEEEE*

“GAHFUCK--!”

Soriel came awake with a violent snort when his alarm clock’s shriek broke the steady rhythm of his breathing, nearly falling out of bed with a stream of profanities to rival the clock as he swept his hand blindly over his desktop to shut the damned thing off.

The alarm gave a last shrill cry as his fist connected soundly with its digital face with a satisfying ‘crunch’ and Soriel slumped partially off the bed, his forehead and arms splayed on the floor while his hips and legs managed to stay balanced on the bed.

He groaned as certain anatomy that had been awake long before he even considered consciousness pressed painfully into the side of the mattress. The teenager wriggled fully onto the bed and sprawled back onto his haven, his fierce erection poking him in his mismatched eyes, almost.

His morning wood would be an unflagging companion for the rest of the day if he didn’t take care of it now, but he didn’t have the time or energy to indulge in his usual attentive pleasuring in which he reveled in every stroke and squeeze.

“Mmmnn,” he moaned regretfully as he rubbed his naked cock into the crumpled sheets, reluctantly resolving to get up before he fell asleep again. His literal partner-in-crime, Nil, would wake him up just to beat him back into unconsciousness if he did.

He shuffled on a pair of red flannel shorts that were a size too small and clashed horribly with his hair, as well as a grey t-shirt with bold writing that was a size too big yet fell just an inch above the raised hem of his shorts.

He’d have gone downstairs naked towards the delicious smell of coffee (even though he rarely drank the nasty stuff – he’d take a ‘Dew any day) wafted from the cramped kitchen, but Nil was likely still pissed after the attempted molestation last night and Soriel’s stick-and-balls flapping about likely wouldn’t be appreciated.

-------

Nil seemed to be an entirely unassuming individual with an unassuming demeanor and looks to go with his unassumingness, especially for all the brains he had practically shining out his ass. His glasses were too big for his face and the intelligent grey eyes behind the ugly frames were usually connected to some sort of electronic screen or another. He was a perfectionist to a fault, and his plain brown hair was the only messy thing about him – as if the strands took a note from Soriel and were revolting against his perpetual order and neatness.

The technical genius was tapping steadily away at his laptop when Soriel stumbled down the stairs, not even looking up when the teen sprawled into the chair across from him, causing the cast-off table from a raid auction to wobble precariously. Soriel’s green eye was still shut in sleep and his opposing blue one was steadily sinking shut too, a broad yawn cracking his jaw before he plopped a cheek against the cool surface of the table, unable to stay upright for long.

“Any new biz yet?” he mumbled tiredly, blinking his half-opened eye at his partner. He shuffled his bare feet against the dirty tile floor, but otherwise he could have been asleep for all that he moved.

Nil took a sip of his coffee (pure black and untarnished with impurities like the milk and sugar Soriel liked to fill his cup nearly to the brim with) and shook his head in a negative.

“Nothing that can’t wait until later. Gunnison informed us to keep our schedules open this morning if that Butterfly Dust case goes down.”

Soriel stared at Nil. He had to get up at 6-fucking-o’clock in the morning just to leave his schedule open?

If their information head had been there he’d have punched him in the fucking mouth. That is - if he knew he wouldn’t get maced along with a baton rammed up his ass in return.

Butterfly Dust was a new drug on the Underground market that was potent but highly unstable. The dust was a sparkly substance that looked like glitter and went down like glass, but twice as sharp.

Soriel hadn’t tried the shit himself, especially after one of his inside hook ups had taken a line of the dust while it was still in its preliminary stages and thrown himself off a twenty story building, convinced he could fly up until the moment his glittering brains and guts decorated the grimy sidewalk.

Other than that minor side effect, the drug was gaining popularity, especially with the younger crowd.

Nil and Soriel freelanced for the PD, and did the cops’ necessary dirty work on the condition neither went down for their previous crimes against humanity, or some bullshit like that.

Nil was a freaking computer genius who had hacked large corporate banking institutions ‘because he was bored’ while Soriel had been in and out of juvie for assault, drug trafficking, prostitution, and various other misdemeanors. The kid had an unbelievable streak of luck, though, that somehow kept him alive during these past seventeen years and also had an extensive knowledge of the Underground and several markets no respectable grammaw would be haggling at.

The toaster next to Nil’s elbow (god forbid he have to get up from his precious laptop to make breakfast) detonated with perfectly crunchy, golden brown bread which always turned out unrecognizably charred whenever Soriel tried to make it. However, before Nil could even reach over for the toasted slices he found himself with a lapful of Soriel and a huge chunk of his bread already down the other’s gullet.

“You make toast like an angel, Nil,” Soriel moaned, spattering crumbs and spit all over himself and Nil.

He inhaled the rest of the toast and reached hungrily for the other piece, but a very hard, very HOT mug squashed his hand to the table before he came halfway close to the toaster.

“GoddammitFUCK!” he hissed, withdrawing his hand so quickly that he jarred the mug and spilled the steaming contents on the back of his already scalded hand.

Nil looked entirely unremorseful as he continued tapping one-handed, not even sparing the other a glance as he checked the local news from his screen.

Soriel licked the back of his hand balefully, wincing at the bitterness of Nil’s coffee and indifference.

His partner was cold-blooded… and it turned him on like a bitch in heat sometimes.

The orange and blond-haired teen swiveled in Nil’s lap, hooking his bare feet around the legs of the chair as he pulled his hips forward and ground himself against Nil’s stomach, nipping at the brunette’s neck forcefully. He was still aching from last night, and his need hadn’t abated in the slightest that morning.

It was one of the few times he managed to sneak into Nil’s bed without detection, and Soriel was glad his partner was such so much of a nerd that he stayed glued to his computer screen until his abused eyes refused to stay open anymore.

-------

Nil gave a startled, wordless exclamation when Soriel’s lean arms snaked around his chest after he had a short, exhausted fall into bed, and the younger teen thrust his prick shamelessly against his butt. “I wanna make love to youuu,” Soriel panted against Nil’s neck as he gave him a moist lick, causing Nil to shutter in disgust.

Soriel moaned and rubbed himself against Nil, his leg slipping over the other’s thighs.

“Get. Out,” the hacker ordered flatly, in no mood for Soriel’s perpetual horniness.

“…Can I just hump you a little then?”

“NO!”

Soriel cupped his ‘treasures’ between his palms and thighs and rolled to the side before Nil’s backwards blow could connect with any vitals. Instead, his partner’s hand ended up giving Soriel’s bubble butt a solid, and rather pleasurable smack.

“Ohhhh, kinky tonight, aren’t we?” he purred, and Nil actually snarled before throwing Soriel out on his ass, closing the door firmly shut on the little felon.

“Niiiiiiil!” Soriel whined and pounded at Nil’s door. “I’m so fucking horny I’ll even let you top!” he tried to negotiate, but was only greeted with dead silence.

“Shit.” Soriel finally gave up after a half an hour of no response from his partner, hopelessly frustrated and still hard. “Fucking asshole…” He slumped back against the door, cursing himself more than Nil, although it wasn’t his fault Nil was so goddamned irresistible whenever Soriel managed to get a rise out of the stoic brunette.

He had jerked off and shot his load right there in front of Nil’s door, hoping the cold bastard slipped in his cum in the morning, and sulked off to bed where he promptly fell into the arms of his only faithful lover – sleep.

-------

It wasn’t that he even liked Nil, but he at least tried to make it a somewhat pleasurable partnership since he was all Soriel had. And he was a teenager, for crying out loud – what did the old fart expect?

“Ughn…” Soriel grunted inelegantly into Nil’s ear, his own ringing from the silence of Nil’s perpetually typing fingers for once stilling on his keyboard.

Holding his release back for as long as he had ensured Soriel was tense enough to come within seconds with any sort of consistent friction on his young cock. Which was exactly what he did right all over his shorts and Nil’s button-down shirt before the man either poured the rest of his coffee on him or strangled him with his computer’s extension cord.

“Ah…ahhhh…” Soriel sighed shamelessly and slumped against Nil’s bony shoulder. He had no doubt the sex would have been more fulfilling if there was more participation from the other side, but considering he wasn’t crippled for life or sans testicles yet Soriel considered it a success.

After a few moments of lingering bliss, Soriel’s body began to tense of it own accord in lieu of the absent pain that usually ensued after a Nil-induced orgasm. He chanced a peek through his jagged bangs up at Nil, and other than thin lips pressed into a strained white line the man didn’t seem to take notice of him.

Soriel very nearly scowled when he realized Nil hadn’t looked up from his screen at all.

Fucking bastard! He should have just pulled out his cock and pissed on him – see if Nil noticed that! Goddamn asexual sonuvabitch had a hot piece of ass like Soriel coming in his lap and doesn’t even fucking notice…

Soriel’s gutter-influenced vocabulary reached near record levels inside his head as he pulled himself off Nil’s cold lap and shucked off his shorts, rubbing the cloth into his crotch and tossing the wet shorts somewhere towards the sink that also doubled as their washing machine.

He seriously considered going back upstairs and going to bed. Fuck Gunnison and his goddamn fairy dust--

“C’mere,” Nil muttered, not even looking around at Soriel as he grabbed a fistful of the criminal’s t-shirt and pulled him onto his lap, naked-assed and all.

“Wha—“

“Shut the fuck up.”

Soriel shifted so he had one of Nil’s legs straddled between his own, his balls comfortably squished against Nil’s thigh. The hacker made a vague sound of disgust, finally noticing his and his partner’s sticky clothes (and lack of on Soriel’s part). His knee gave a hard jerk upwards right into the sensitive strip connecting the teen’s anus and balls, Soriel choking on a pained gasp and tightening a fist in retaliation until he realized Nil had lost focus on him again.

He sighed, knowing he’d asked for the abuse, and let it go. Which didn’t make much of a difference since the voice that suddenly crackled from Nil’s speakers would have stopped his blow short, as well as made his testicles try to crawl back up into his body.

“Alright you motherfuckers, here’s the 411 on that asswipe Luciano,” Gunnison, their informant from the Police Department, greeted cheerfully from the laptop’s screen. Luciano was the suspected head of the Butterfly Dust ring and was said to have serious power within the Underground as well.

Gunnison’s face was severed from his hairy nostrils up on the recording, leaving his salt-and-pepper mustache, yellowing teeth with an even yellower gold crown on the right incisor, and scruffy square chin giving them their orders. His voice had also been disguised by some kind of warping device that made him sound like a drunk bulldyke - Nil could have scoffed at the amateur ‘disguise,’ even though he’d never seen ‘Gunnison’ (a codename, no doubt) in person.

Soriel could see the voice and face far too clearly.

The blonde was as quiet as he always was during their briefings, self-consciously pulling the hem of his shirt down in front even though Gunnison couldn’t see them through the video recording. He leaned back hard against Nil, and for once wasn’t pushed away.

“It’s a long stretch, but part of the crowd snorting up the Dust is said to be linked to Luciano’s underage prostitution chain as well – keeps the little fuck toys happy, I guess.”

Soriel started violently when a steady arm slipped around his waist, and just as suddenly realized he was trembling. His mind had already been working three steps ahead of Gunnison – it appeared Nil’s was working thirty. He swallowed hard and squeezed the brunette’s forearm with the hand still stinging from the earlier coffee spill, speaking the orders silently in his head before Gunnison had said a word.

“Cheyenne,” that was Soriel’s codename, but he flinched as if the cop had violated his given name just the same, “Your job is to infiltrate Luciano’s prostitution ring and retrieve a sample of the Dust for the forensics…”

The rest droned meaninglessly in Soriel’s ear. It was easy enough for Gunnison to tell him to skip into Luciano’s ring and flitter out with the Butterfly Dust, likely for Gunnison’s own nose; rape, disease, and drug abuse would be the least of his worries.

Luciano’s crew wasn’t known for their niceties and delicate handling of their live goods, even in passing rumor, and if it was even suspected he had heard of the Dust before being inducted high enough and introduced to the substance - if he ever got that far – and his cop connections notwithstanding…

A tinny, persistent sound continued after Gunnison’s hated drawl crackled off and filled Soriel’s ears. It sounded like one of Nil’s machines dying…

-------

Nil’s face was expressionless, almost disinterested throughout the briefing, although he noted every single nuance of Soriel’s disturbed body language. The teen had given a low moan toward the end of the recording – the only sound he had made throughout the entire thing. It had escalated into a terrified keen, and Nil had ended and deleted the recording before Gunnison made it to his heartfelt salutations, but it was nothing he had not heard in previous instructions.

Research what he could on the drug, on the ring Soriel was to infiltrate, and shove the kid through the fucking door… But Soriel had instincts and knowledge that Nil’s extensive system couldn’t replicate, so the pretense of research was just picking at scabs – nothing Nil could find would help Soriel be Soriel.

The kid’s keen trailed off into a broken whimper, his green and blue eyes glazed with past horrors, of the life he refused he speak about, that Nil didn’t ask about, and Gunnison shoved him face-first back into.

“…Nil…” A small voice entered past the hacker’s network of assimilating thoughts and strategies, and his cold grey eyes cut down into the blonde’s.

His mouth took Soriel’s without a even plead on the other’s end, as his body would take the teen’s within the false safety of Nil’s room and hard mattress until the insatiable tramp was left numb and empty.

…An emptiness that would soon be filled with more pain and horrors than even his seemingly limitless mind could fathom.

- End Chapter