Changing Fortunes

Part 7

Cam must have stared at that bruise for a few minutes. Perhaps it wasn't the same as what he'd seen last night. For one thing, it wasn't bleeding and it didn't seem like there was anything to heal over. If anything, it looked more like a hickey. Cam peered closer, examining it. Fuck. Now he could see them. Faint. Small. But there were definitely tiny punctures.

At first, Cam was horrified at the sight of it. What could have made those kind of marks? An ice pick? "What did he do to you?" Cam demanded, not even bothering to identify who he meant because he knew Balint would recognize it.

Balint sat up. "Do to me?"

Balint didn't sound upset about it. He sounded a little put off by the question. As if Cam had no right to ask it.

Like hell he didn't. The worry he had been feeling was rapidly turning to rage because he understood what Angelo had done by leaving that bruise. It was the equivalent of pissing on Balint. Marking his property. Fuck that! "I thought you were a hostage, but you weren't, were you? You wanted it."

"Cameron, don't do this," Balint warned.

More than anything, Cam hated to be shut up. Even by Balint. "Before we separated for the night, you'd already hinted about what you were gonna do. And that's exactly what you did."

As usual, Balint's voice was calm. Soft. He never raised it. But then again, he didn't have to. "If you remember, we'd agreed that you'd go your way and I'd go mine. It was your idea to go after the blond, and I went along with it. Like I always do."

"If you minded it you should have told me, Balint! You never do! "

Balint sighed. "When we entered into this partnership, the agreement was: no strings. No commitments. Partners with benefits. Last night was no exception, Cam."

Cam recognized the cadences in Balint's speech. He was doing the same thing he did to their clients. Trying to unruffle his feathers and soothe with reason. To manipulate him. It wasn't working. All it did was infuriate him even more. "I didn't think you were into that."

"Cameron," Balint pleaded, "I really don't want to have this conversation."

"Well I do!" Cam shifted positions so he was meeting his partner's hazel gaze. "He's into really rough sex? Is that what you want from me?"

"I want you to shut up."

"Answer me, Balint!"

"They both are," was Balint's quiet answer.

Both?

Then Cam remembered what Angelo had said. Not just him. Him and Weasel. Both of them were planning on having sex with Balint. Not planning, Cam realized. Weasel already had.

And now Cam could see that Balint had bruises on his throat, just underneath his right nipple, all over his body. "Was that what you were doing all day?" he asked, hating how jealous he sounded, but it was more than that. Balint hadn't just fucked around with any pretty kid. He'd gone to the enemy. To both of them.

To his surprise and annoyance, Balint laughed. "I was up really late. Until dawn. So I slept all day, Cam."

"Did you?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." Balint got off the floor and grabbed his clothes. "I was looking forward to being with you but it's obvious you only want to argue and I won't have it."

Balint got dressed. "One last chance, Cammie. If I leave, I'm gone for the night. "

"And where are you gonna go? Back to them?"

Balint's eyes were cold. Closed. "I love you, Cam, but don't ever think you own me. You don't," he told Cam before opening the van door and leaving.

Well Cam sure fucked that up. He only hoped it wasn't fucked up for good.

What burned was that if Cam didn't go after him tonight, Balint would just come back the next day like nothing happened. Except for the fact that he wouldn't initiate sex until he cooled off. Everything with Balint was that way. It was more what he didn't do that showed Cam how Balint really felt.

If Cam did go after Balint, if he acted with the same jealousy and possessiveness that had driven Balint away in the first place, Balint would instantly forgive him but again, he would show Cam that in bed, rather than tell him so.

And that was why Balint literally had Cam by the balls.

But it was more than sex. It always had been. It was passion. Balint was passionate about everything. Whether it was about a job, a new possession he just had to have, money, and of course, fucking, Balint was passion. When he was on the job, the passion was channeled into the pursuit of the target.

Balint was a rogue, sneaky and shameless, always dragging Cam into scheme after scheme, but made up for it by sweetening him by the end of the night. And it always worked. No one sweetened quite like Balint.

Tonight, Cam would have to do the sweetening or he knew he'd lose Balint.

He pounded his fist against the floor, not caring that the hard floor of the van would make his hand hurt like a bitch. Cam would be damned if he let Angelo get his claws into Balint.

At least he knew where to find him this time.

Cam got dressed, shoved his gun in his waistband and went to get the Gypsy boy. His Gypsy boy.

"Going somewhere?" a familiar voice greeted him the second Cam stepped outside the van.

Oh fuck. Weasel. Dressed all in black, with really tight jeans, he was leaning provacatively against the side of the van, the picture of wantonness. So tempting….

No. That was what got him Cam into this mess with Balint.

"What the fuck do you want?" Cam growled.

"The same thing you do," was Weasel's irritatingly vague answer. The come-fuck-me expression on his face didn't help. Neither did the need that was pouring off of Weasel like a boiling caldron.

Looking just as delicious as he did the first time Cam saw him. Shit. He still wanted him. Even if it was just to have him just once. To finally conquer him.

Cam reminded himself that Weasel was a tease. He got off playing these games, both him and his psycho lover. "I want you to fuck off."

Weasel moved closer. "No," he murmured, backing Cam against the side of the van, "you don't." Weasel's arms boxed him in and before Cam had the chance to think, the green-eyed boy's mouth seized his in a fierce kiss.

Weasel's knee moved between Cam's legs, pressing against his crotch and rubbing sensually against Cam's rapidly hardening cock he kissed him.

If Cam was thinking with his head he’d have pushed Weasel away, but of course, he wasn’t thinking with that part of his body so when Weasel's tongue licked at the opening of Cam's mouth, he let it inside with a sigh.

Cam’s tongue probed Weasel's mouth but just as he was getting into the kiss, he felt Weasel's tongue guide his own away from where he obviously didn't want it to go and Cam broke the kiss in frustration.

"Come on, Weasel," Cam told him, "either we're gonna do this or you can stop it right now."

A look of annoyance briefly crossed over those feline features, only for it to be replaced by Weasel's signature amused expression. "You're so forceful," he drawled.

Cam knew he was being mocked, knew Weasel was baiting him but at this point he didn't care because he realized he'd just been handed an opportunity he'd be an idiot not to take.

He had just found a way to get even with Angelo. And what made it even sweeter was that Weasel had been the one to stick in the knife.

Cam would only be happy to turn it in and bury it deeper. The thought excited him as much as Weasel's kiss had.

"Let me get you inside my van and I'll demonstrate how forceful I can be," Cam replied.

Weasel smiled. "Anything you say, Cameron."

"Cam," he corrected.

"Cam, then."

Cam opened up the door of the van and the two of them stepped inside, shedding their clothes the second Cam shut the door.

As he lowered Weasel to the floor of the van, the nagging feeling that this was the last thing he should be doing percolated in Cam's brain. He needed to be taking Balint back with him, not having sex with this fucked up boy. But as usual, Cam's libido won out over his good sense and when Weasel's mouth began to kiss him in other places, all coherency left him completely.

Cam had been all ready to show Weasel what the boy had been missing by running out in the middle of things the night before, but the overwhelming lust swiftly sweeping through Cam's body as Weasel's skilled hands and lips laid their claim to it, made the idea a moot one.

Weasel's touch was so light, yet it seemed to resonate through every nerve ending, waves of ecstasy rising at every caress. Between that and still being aroused from the little bit of lovemaking with Balint, Cam was not gonna last long.

"Stop," he gasped.

Weasel ignored his pleas. Instead he lay on top of Cam and began to grind his cock against Cam's, his mouth moving to nibble at Cam's neck, his tongue doing something that sent a jolt of electricity down Cam's spine, straight to his cock. All of Cam's senses were so overloaded with pleasure that he almost missed the slight pinch of Weasel's teeth as they sank into his throat.

As if he'd been drugged, a muzziness seemed to spread through Cam's body, the mere movement of Weasel's lips moving softly against his neck sending sparks shooting and bringing shivers of delight throughout Cam's body.

Weasel's mouth gently but firmly pulled at Cam and a heaviness began to settle into Cam's arms and legs. A sense of delicious rapture began to overtake Cam; he couldn't remember ever feeling this good during sex.

He couldn't recall ever feeling this good, period.

And he wasn't the only one. Weasel was really getting off on this. His ecstasy crashed against Cam like a tidal wave, and it was so easy to get lost in it that Cam let himself, until he reached the point where he couldn't tell where Weasel's desire began and Cam's ended. As if their need was kindling the other's. Feeding back to one another.

Another empath. For some reason, Cam wasn't surprised. And it only heightened his arousal.

Somehow through his pleasure haze, Cam was faintly aware of the fact that Weasel was sucking harder, the pressure increasing. He felt Weasel lapping at him and for a moment it felt like Cam's entire body was getting licked so deliciously.

A needlelike sharpness jolted Cam from the ether to lucidity; the recognition that Weasel's teeth had gone deeper registering fuzzily in his mind. At first he felt nothing but a dull ache throbbing from his neck. Then suddenly, white hot pain seared through his veins, his body resonating with gut wrenching agony. Such torment that death would have been a mercy.

Of course, Weasel was experiencing all of it. But he realized that Weasel wasn't feeling Cam's torture as if it was his own. To his horror, the more Cam suffered, the more Weasel seemed to like it. No, not just like it. Love it. Practically orgasmic from it.

To the point of euphoria.

That did it. Cam had enough. He went to rise and buck the psychopathic boy off his prone body.

He couldn't move. Cam didn't have the strength. It'd been completely leeched out of him.

Cam was in such pain that there was no part of his body that wasn't radiating it. Every fibre was singing the same chorus of agony and just when he felt it would never end, his consciousness finally took pity upon him and he sank into merciful oblivion.

<< Chapter 6 --- Chapter 8 >>

Last updated 2/13/03

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