Archive of Our Own ^beta

Joe leans up against the back wall of the barn, pants pushed down to his knees. Griff is kneeling before him, left hand pressing Joe’s hips back against the wood while his right holds the base of Joe’s cock. He’s glaring up at Joe, stormy blue eyes sad and intense, and Joe has never had sex like this, has never been with someone who looked at him like they hated him, but it’s got him leaking something awful.

He buries his right hand in Griff’s hair, left settled over his gun, and he won’t use it but he can’t help put hold the grip all the same, can’t help but steady himself against the terrifying rage in Griff’s eyes.

Griff thinks he’s a monster. Some rich bastard who gets everything he wants, and it occurs to Joe suddenly that maybe Griff thinks he has to do this.

He shakes his head, stroking Griff’s hair.

“Do you want this?” He asks, and it sounds silly considering that Griff is the one who started it, that he dragged Joe back here and pushed him up against the wall and forced his pants down and Joe had been too stunned to fight it, and then Griff had slipped down to his knees and grabbed Joe’s cock and by then Joe had been too hot to say no.

Griff laughs, strong lines appearing on his cheeks, and maybe he’s pretty underneath the bitterness, maybe he’s even kind, but there’s so much hate in the sound.

“Does it matter?” Griff asks, jerking Joe roughly. “You want me and I’m here.”

Joe shivers, wanting to push Griff away, but he wants him to stay, too. Wants that pretty pink mouth on his cock, wants that soft hair slipping between his fingers, wants the heat and the rage and the excitement.

Griff drags his lips down the side of Joe’s hardening length, pressing the flat of his teeth against flesh like he wants to cause pain, and then drawing back a moment later.

“What—?” Joe asks, gasping when Griff licks his tip, and he’s not sure he could get away even if he tried; Griff’s grip is too powerful.

Not that Joe wants to, because fuck Griff is so pretty, and Joe wants to drag him deep and—

Griff laughs again, ignoring the question as he opens his mouth wide and takes Joe into his mouth, takes him down his throat, pushes forward until he’s choking. His hands are painful on Joe’s hips, bruising tight, and he’s looking up at Joe like he wants to bite.

His skin is flushing bright red, eyes watering as he assaults himself with Joe’s cock, and then Joe is settled against the back of his throat and Griff holds himself in place, his nose pressed against Joe’s belly. He’s breathing hard through it, little punched out sounds, spit dripping past his lips, and Joe slips his left hand down curiously, feeling a strange sort of fascination when he feels his own cock through Griff’s throat.

He moans, feeling a bit sick even as he grabs Griff’s neck and starts to rock his hips, and Griff growls around him, pleased to be proven right.

Because Joe is just like all the others, isn’t he? Just another bastard that wants to use Griff until he breaks.

What he doesn’t know is that Griff is already in pieces, and he’s going to cut everyone up on his broken edges.

Joe slips his hand around to Griff’s nape, pushes his fingers up into those loose brown waves, and he grabs on tight, fucking forward as he loses control under that perfect, wet suction, and God, Griff feels so good, so tight, so hot, swallowing around his cock like he’s never done anything else, and Joe is losing himself in it.

Nobody has ever let him in this deep, and he’s half certain Griff doesn’t even count, that maybe he’s not really letting Joe do this, and Joe thinks he should stop this, even tries to pull Griff off of him, but Griff just pins his hips down and pushes forward and Joe is as much a captive here as Griff thinks he is.

“You’re crazy,” Joe says, speaking in a strangled whisper, but he can’t stop himself. The lust is too strong, and he’s taking control now, holding Griff in place as he fucks his face, and it’s rough and sloppy and the tears are finally falling down Griff’s face but Joe can barely see him through his own burning eyes.

What is he doing? What the fuck is he doing?

He’s getting close, cock throbbing against Griff’s tongue, and he moves faster, dragging Griff into him so his cock slips down the other man’s throat, past his gag reflex, completely lost, and Griff’s nails are piercing Joe’s flesh as he squeezes hard enough to bruise, squeezes like he wishes he could put them around Joe’s throat.

Joe grits his teeth, both terrified and horrified and deeply turned on when he looks down to see that Griff has murder in his tear filled eyes. And then Griff grants him the barest scraping of teeth and Joe comes down the other man’s throat.

Joe falls back against the barn, banging his head hard, and he can feel Griff choking around him, can feel his own cum being pushed out past Griff’s lips, but he can’t let go, can’t ease up, and then suddenly Griff is wrenching free and pulling off and throwing himself to the side to spit and gag.

Joe gasps, legs shaking, and he shoves his hands back against the wall, nails digging into the wood, heart racing so hard it hurts.

He blinks hard, looking down at Griff, and his stomach turns as he watches the other man wretch on his hands and knees.

“What the fuck was that?” Joe asks when he gets his breath back.

Griff coughs a laugh, and it’s a terrible, rasping sound. He’s grinning when he looks up, and he spits again before shifting up onto his knees. When Joe looks down, he sees Griff isn’t even hard.

“Just getting it out of the way,” Griff rasps, wiping his wrist across his face.

“What?” Joe asks, feeling sick, because Griff must mean… Did he think…?

He drops down onto his knees, reaching out. Griff pulls away, glaring, and Joe lets his hand fall.

“I’m not that kind of person,” He says sharply, feeling a twisted rage begin to build. Because he just did it, didn’t he? And it wasn’t entirely his choice, but… God, how could Griff make him do that?

Griff laughs again. “Cartwright, that’s the only kind of person there is.”