Author/pseudonym: Clotho & Cathy
Email address: clothomoerae@hotmail.com and huntersglenn@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
Status: 1/6
Pairing: John Carter/Dave Malucci
Date: December 31, 2000
Archive: Not without permission
Category: "E.R
Disclaimer: "ER" and all its characters belong to Warner Bros. No infringement of their copyright is intended. This story was written for the enjoyment of "ER" fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your own pleasure. We owe a huge "Thank you" to Alice and Melissa, our wonderful editors. We couldn't have done it without the two of you!
Summary: Written in response to a holiday slash challenge on the ERROS list, looking for unusual couples. Dave and Carter bump into each other in a gay bar on New Year's Eve. They dump Carter's date, and retire to the Carter family mansion where more bumping and grinding ensues. While the boys are a little lax in practicing safe sex, we do not condone or encourage such behavior. Contains spoiler for Season 7.
Dave Malucci's steps slowed before entering the bar. There was nothing wrong with going to a bar on New Year's Eve. Nothing wrong with going to a bar looking to get laid. A bar or a party was where most people would be tonight. Nothing unexpected.
But this was a gay bar.
And that made all the difference.
It was only the third time he'd gone looking for a man to fuck since he'd been in Chicago. Most of the time women suited him just fine. But when you found yourself looking at the male doctors' asses instead of the nurses', then it was time to get drunk and find yourself a man.
So he was here.
Dave pushed the door open quickly - not keen for any chance passer-by to recognize him outside.
Inside, the bar was dark and smoky and thick with the smell of spilt beer, sweat and lust. Dave made his way to the bar and ordered a beer with a whiskey chaser. These places always freaked him out a bit before he had enough alcohol in his system. He gulped the whiskey when it came, but drank the beer more slowly looking around in the fug.
The bartender tapped Dave on his shoulder. "You're okay for in here, but don't go to the inner bar in that getup. It's strictly leather-only."
Dave looked down at his black jeans and black heavy-metal muscle T, then at the guys around him. He was seriously underdressed, considering there was enough leather in this bar to have provided most of Chicago with a steak dinner. Most of the guys' eyes flicked over him without stopping, which wasn't something he was used to. He sat up a bit straighter and moved to make his pecs more visible.
And was rewarded when a big guy in leather vest and pants came towards him. This would be good. The guy had enough muscle to be a really tight ass.
"I haven't seen you around here before." The guy smiled as he reached behind Dave and began to knead his butt cheeks. "Nice ass. I'll bet you're a good fuck. Wanna dance first or do you want to suck me some?"
Dave stopped slouching against the bar, and jerked straight upright at the man's touch. "Hey, knock it off. I'm a top." Dave frowned. He didn't bottom and he didn't suck. He was a top all the way.
The big guy sneered as he looked down at Dave. "Yeah, sure you are. You ain't dressed like a top. If you're gonna advertise yourself as a bottom, then you should be prepared to be fucked." The guy turned around and walked away.
Dave looked about. He wasn't a bottom. He wasn't one of the guys giving blow jobs over by the wall. He wasn't one of the guys being fucked on the dance floor. He wasn't one of the bottoms doing god-alone-knew-what elsewhere in the murk of the bar. He was a top who just didn't happen to own any leather. Dave shifted his gaze to the dance floor. It was crowded with couples and threesomes. Some of them hadn't managed to make it over to the wall for the sex.
For a brief second the crowds on the dance floor thinned, and Dave caught a glimpse of some man wearing a dazzlingly white shirt and fuck-me pants being groped in the middle of the dance floor. Dave pushed the rest of his beer aside. THAT was the guy he wanted.
Dave approached the couple from behind. He didn't want to see the face of the man in the fuck-me pants. From this angle, in this dim light, he could almost be Carter. Carter of the suspenders and the suits. Carter who must have such smooth white skin. Carter who he'd jerked off over every night this week. Carter who was the cause of him being in this hellhole instead of dancing with some buxom beauty at a normal party.
Dave couldn't resist running his hands down the sides of fuck-me's pants. From the crisp cotton shirt, to the shiny friction of the leather, to the erotic mixture of skin, hair and lacing. Then he spoke. "Mind if I cut in?"
They would mind. Dave knew that. It was obvious who the next man in fuck-me pants' ass would be - or was, Dave was close enough to see that it seemed there was already at least one finger precisely where he wanted to be. There might even be a fight, or he'd be thrown out. This bar was a lost cause anyway - no one without a leather jacket would get so much as a blow-job here. As soon as he was shot down he'd try some less classy joint. But until then...Dave moved his hands over the leather of the pants, then around to the front feeling amid the lacing that the man was already hard.
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New Year's Eve was definitely a night you didn't want to spend alone, John thought as he followed his date out to the dance floor. He would have preferred to be working, but after his double shift before Christmas, and the Vicodin incident that she still didn't know about, Kerry had decided to keep him off nights for a bit. So, while he was wearing party clothes, he did have a bag packed and waiting in the Jeep, just in case he didn't make it home tonight. There was no way on earth that he wanted to be seen in broad daylight wearing these particular pants.
Although as his date latched onto him and he felt himself being groped through his clothes, John reflected that there was little doubt that he would be away from home all night. He would definitely get laid tonight, he thought, smiling as he looked into his date's eyes and moved closer, narrowing the gap between their bodies until he could feel Adam's cock -- hard and ready -- through both of their clothing. Not that it was a difficult feat for John -- his leather pants were skin tight, and while they left nothing to the imagination, they were also thin enough for him to feel anything through the leather. If John had been more observant, he would have noticed that nearly every man in The Back Yard was giving him a once over. Most of them were giving him a second and third look. But, John wasn't that observant, although he knew that wearing pants that were held together only by lacing that ran from the front, under his crotch and up the back, and by the lacing that ran all the way down the outside of each leg, was asking for looks. He had worn the pants because Adam had asked him to wear them after he spotted them in John's bag one night a week ago. Since then, John hadn't heard the end of *the pants*, and when was he going to wear them for Adam? Thinking that he would be scheduled to work, John had finally given in and said that he would wear them on New Year's Eve; that they could go out. That pleased Adam quite a bit and the sex after that had been pretty darn hot. And then John had discovered that he wasn't working that night and he was faced with actually putting on the pants and wearing them out in public. He had only worn the pants once before, and he was all too aware that the lacing gapped in some very strategic places. Places designed to give other men some very naughty ideas indeed. They especially gapped in the front and right behind his balls. Places that would give someone easy access to his most sensitive parts. Even now as they danced, Adam was running his fingers through the front lacing and stroking John's hardening cock. A cock that had been visible to all as John had walked out onto the dance floor because there was no placket in the pants -- just his skin and the lacing and leather. So his erection was pressing up against the lacing, begging to be set free. There weren't plackets anywhere on the pants -- not the front, under his crotch, back or side seams. So he was exposing a lot of skin. This made John grateful for a lot of things, the first one being that no one he knew from work was likely to be hanging out in The Back Yard, and second that the pants didn't reveal any of his scars. A white poet's shirt and soft black boot completed the outfit and as John and Adam swayed to the slow song, Adam was slowly pulling the shirt from the waistband. With a gleam in his eye, Adam pulled the shirt out enough to give him room to slip his hands up inside of it. His hands skimmed John's sides, making John shiver. And when those fingers pinched his nipples, John bit back a moan and thrust his hips toward Adam, a silent plea to be fucked. Adam's answer was to slip his hands around to John's back and lower them to cup his ass, kneading those leather covered orbs while grinding his own crotch into John's. Then a hand went lower and a finger slowly penetrated John. John tightly grasped Adam's biceps, holding on while he was slowly worked over by one finger on a crowded dance floor full of men who didn't care what was happening right beside them.
John's cock swelled as he felt a pair of hands touch him just beside his nipples on his chest, then make their way down his body, firmly caressing him. When the hands made contact with his bare skin through the lacings of the pants, John felt a near electric tingle course through his body.
And then John heard a very familiar voice ask Adam "Mind if I cut in?" And one of those hands shifted to the front of his pants, touching his cock with sureness. John almost jerked away as he realized that Dave Malucci was the man pressing up against his back, Dave's hardness pressing into him through the rough fabric of Dave's jeans.
John had entertained one or two fleeting thoughts about Dave Malucci. The guy was muscular and had a very confident attitude. Definitely the type of guy who would be in control during sex. The kind of guy that John wouldn't mind taking orders from in the bedroom. There were a few other men like that at work, but it was plain that Luka was out of the question since he and Abby were still seeing each other. And Romano was not really someone that John wanted to ever consider having sex with, although he had no trouble imagining Romano getting all authoritative with him. But John had discounted Dave a long time ago. The man had come across as very het. But there was no mistaking that accent or the bravura. Only Dave would think he could get away with being so bold as to have his hands all over a guy before even asking permission to touch. John really wished those jeans were out of the way and that it was Dave's hard cock, not Adam's finger, that was nestled between his ass cheeks
John looked into Adam's eyes and saw amusement there. Licking his lips, John barely nodded. Adam looked past John's shoulder. "Yes, I mind. But, I don't mind sharing. And he doesn't mind being shared."
Dave nodded, and moved in close behind the man, swaying in time with the other man's body. He was getting harder by the second. Pressing hard up against the fabric of his jeans. It was right that fuck-me didn't speak. Dave didn't want to know anything about him. Just some anonymous bottom. No name, no face, nothing but ass. He moved his hands over the leather pants feeling the sleek body underneath. He wanted to be under them, but they were skintight. He had to be content for a few inches around the openings. And why didn't the other top get his hand out of fuck-me's ass? That was where he should be.
John leaned back against Dave, letting his mind go nearly blank as he enjoyed the feel of Dave's hands upon him. He was beginning to be glad that he had worn the pants, especially when Dave's fingers would work their way through a gap in the lacing. The three of them swayed to the throbbing beat and Adam's finger was rubbing against his prostate. John whimpered a little, close to the edge and not ashamed at all over the prospect of coming out on the dance floor. And then Adam's finger was gone and the need for release eased a bit.
Dave took advantage of the space as soon as the top's hand left the asshole. He tried an experimental finger, and felt himself being sucked inside. Oh yes, this guy was definitely a bottom. Tight anus, and greedy, pulling him in. He felt his cock get harder, and with his other hand undid the buttons on his jeans, wanting, needing to be out.
He ground himself forward; the bottom was taller than him, frustrating his attempts to be pressed between those ass cheeks. But there was leather on those thighs as well. Dave needed pressure. Other man pressure. NOW. The jeans might not be leather, but they were tight enough to stay up regardless. Dave withdrew his finger from the ass, and muttered, "Legs apart." Then he moved forward waiting to be trapped by the black leather.
John was able to barely suppress a shudder as he felt Dave's finger take the place of Adam's, even though what he most wanted was to feel the silky smoothness of Dave's cock against more skin. Hell, what he really wanted was for Dave to fuck him. He wanted to tell him to do just that, but so far Dave hadn't addressed him by name and John was beginning to wonder if Dave even knew who he was messing around with. When Dave muttered in his ear for him to part his legs, John eagerly did so, desperately wanting more than Dave's finger up inside of him.
If it were anyone but Dave, then John would have insisted on a condom, but since Weaver insisted on new HIV tests to start the new year with, John wasn't worried about catching anything. Dave had bragged about his negative result, showing it to anyone who would look. John had also tested negative, so he wasn't any danger to Dave, either.
John bit down hard on his lower lip as he felt Dave's cock slide across his sensitive anus, not quite at the angle where he could fuck him while they were standing up, but the sensation was still wonderful. John let his knees bend slightly, lowering his body and giving Dave the chance to do more if he wanted. Adam was keeping busy by kissing his way up and down John's neck, then sucking on each nipple through the thin cotton of his shirt. John wanted someone to do something more, and at that moment, he didn't care if it was Dave or Adam, just as long as one of them fucked him while the other touched him. Almost as if he could read his mind, Adam's fingers began to unlace the front of John's pants, and he soon had John's hard cock in his hand, slowly pumping it. "Now if only Dave will decide to fuck me, things will be perfect," John thought, grinding his butt against Dave's crotch.
Damn it, the man was just too tall. Another inch or slightly thicker shoes would give Dave the height he needed to get inside fuck-me's ass. "Down." Dave moved his hands around the front of the man and tried to hold onto his clothes. But the leather pants were slick with sweat, and the cotton was flimsy. In desperation he grasped hold of his own hands, encircling the man's waist, and pulled him back and a little down, touching head of his own cock. But not far enough. It was tight. Dave stood on tiptoes and pushed as hard as he could. Needing to be inside. And pulled him down. "Down." Thankfully this time it worked, and Dave felt himself pass the ring of tight anal muscles, and be gripped by that greedy ass.
John moaned loudly as Dave entered him. God, it felt so good and he did all he could to lower himself further on Dave's impressive-feeling cock. The moan was drowned out the loud music of the next song, another slow one. It was almost as if the DJ was doing all he could to make it easier for John to get what he wanted tonight.
Dave began to move. To thrust. To possess this man the way he needed to be possessed. He muttered as he moved. "You're mine. I own every inch of you. Mine."
"Mine," Dave firmly repeated.
John's mind dimly heard what Dave was saying, but that one word did stick out -- "Mine", Dave had said. "Yes," John said, loudly enough to be heard by the two men he was sandwiched between. "I'm all yours, Dave."
Carter was responding to him. Finally. Thankfully. Dave thrust hard and fast, glad to hear Carter's voice acknowledge what it should have been acknowledging all week. Then Dave stopped. Abruptly. This was not a fantasy, this was real. He wasn't up some stranger's ass in a gay bar, he was up Carter's. At least that voice had sounded like Carter's voice.
"Carter?" Dave asked, unsure.
"Yes, Dave?" John asked. He grinned over Dave's surprise at finding out who he was fucking. But his grin quickly became a frown as Dave's cock came to a standstill. This would not do. Not at all. John wanted to be fucked, and he wanted to be fucked by Dave. Right now.
"Oh God." This was Carter? He asked again "Carter?"
There was hesitancy in Dave's voice and that made John fear that Dave was going to pull out and he couldn't have that happen. He deliberately contracted the muscles around his anus, trapping Dave inside and squeezing the cock that John hoped he would soon get a good look at. John began to move up and down on Dave, relaxing his muscles and then tensing them over and over as he rode his colleague.
"God." Carter was good at this. Very good. Dave grasped harder, and thrust himself inside once again. He couldn't stop now, he just couldn't. He had to come. Harder and longer and faster and tighter.
Yes," John said, panting from the exertion of being jerked off by Adam and fucking with Dave. "Harder, Dave. Drive that cock in me," John demanded, torn between wanting this to last forever and wanting Dave to soon come. He could feel his own need quickly rising as Dave's cock rasped against his prostate, massaging it with its hardness. "God, yes," John practically shouted as he came, his semen hitting his own belly and Dave's arms because Adam had pulled the hem of the shirt out from under Dave's arms. When John was spent, Adam released him, raising his hand to John's mouth so John could lick the remains from Adam's fingers. John eagerly sucked on those fingers, hoping that later he would get a chance to switch those fingers for a hard cock, although he would much prefer it to be Dave's as opposed to Adam's. But, Adam was his date for the night, and the least he could do was suck him off before the night ended. As he recovered from his orgasm, he returned his concentration to the pounding his ass was receiving, and he poured his energy into helping Dave come.
When Carter came, he almost stood upright again, depriving Dave on pressure on all but the very tip of his cock.
"Down." He almost yelled, frustrated. "Down, damn you."
His arches were aching from the prolonged tiptoes, and he needed that pressure to cover all of him. Thankfully Carter dropped an inch or two, and Dave was able to continue thrusting. "You don't deserve harder. You don't deserve longer. You don't deserve faster. You deserve nothing. Nothing. For standing up like that. Nothing." But as Dave spoke he was pressing into Carter ever harder, making each stroke a reward as well as a reprimand.
"Nothing. Nothing. nothing nothingnothingnoth." Dave repeated it over and over like a mantra until he finally came. And felt himself spurt inside fuck-me's ass. Carter's ass.
Dave hung on for a few moments, feeling the post-coital slump, reluctant to withdraw immediately. Finally, he did so, repeating, "Nothing."
Even as Dave was telling him all that he didn't deserve, John could feel him thrusting harder, longer and faster until he roughly shoved his cock hard and deep, his arms squeezing John's waist tightly. John knew that Dave was coming, and it seemed to coincide with the ending of the song. As Dave repeated a soft "Nothing", a new song began, and Dave pulled out. As new bodies walked out onto the dance floor, John turned around in Dave's arms and, grasping his face firmly in his hands, said, "Thank you." Then he passionately kissed him, parting his lips so Dave could ravage his mouth in the same way he had just ravaged his ass.
Dave was a bit surprised when Carter turned around and he saw his face. For all the fantasy he hadn't quite believed it. But it was undoubtedly true, more so when Carter gave him open access to his mouth.
Dave put his arms about Carter's waist once again, and slowly opened his mouth, pulling Carter closer as he did so. Feeling no compunction for any crick that might develop in Carter's neck. He didn't strain upwards, but let the bottom's mouth descend toward his own, rewarding him with tongue when he did so.
He broke off for a second. "You're mine. And you do what I say."
John grinned, then captured Dave's mouth once again, sucking energetically on Dave's tongue, giving him a hint of what his mouth was capable of doing to another part of Dave's anatomy. A part of Dave's anatomy that was even now pressed up against John's limp cock. They were both going to need a quick trip to the men's room to clean up as soon as they left the dance floor, John thought.
John was so caught up in what he was doing to Dave that he was surprised to hear Adam's voice in his ear. "You came here with me, John. Don't forget that. I'll be at our table when you're done with this toy."
Out of the corner of his eye, John watched Adam walk away, momentarily feeling guilty for forgetting about his date. Then that pang of guilt disappeared as Dave's tongue retreated into his mouth. John eagerly chased it there, running his tongue up over Dave's gums and teeth, tasting him fully. Then he broke off the kiss.
"I don't know about you, but I could use a quick washing. The men's room is this way." John headed off the dance floor, confident that Dave would follow him.
Dave felt regret as Carter's tongue left his mouth. And he really didn't like the way that other top had interrupted them. He followed Carter to the washroom. "So who is that bozo anyway?"
"Adam. He's my date for the night, as if you couldn't tell." John waited for a sink to become available, then he stepped up to it, gathering a lot of soap on his hand and lathering it up. He was just about to lift his shirt up out of the way so he could wash off his belly when he froze. Dave was standing right beside him at a sink, apparently intent on washing off his arms. At some point when they had been walking to the men's room, Dave had tucked his cock back into his pants, so John didn't get a chance for a look at it. But it wasn't the thought of Dave's cock that made John stop what he was doing. It was the fact that he didn't want Dave to see his scarred body. John grabbed some paper towels with his free hand and ran them under the water, getting them half wet. "Be right back," he said. Then he retreated to a stall to clean up. Once he had his belly and bottom clean -- and as much of his pants as he could reach -- John relaced the front of his pants, but he left his shirt untucked so it would cover most of his groin.
