Power Games

Disclaimer: This is all made up and I mean no offence to anyone. It's all a lie (and that's the truth).

Power Games

'This is it,' Lou thought as he stared at his washed-out reflection in the bathroom mirror. 'This is the day.'

This had been on his mind for a while, but he still felt the need to psych himself up for it. He wasn't sure quite when he'd first felt this bizarre attraction to this person. Well, of course, he'd always found him rather attractive, in an odd sort of way, but until fairly recently he'd never considered the possibility that it might go anywhere beyond the realm of fantasy. Usually, he would not have been distressed by this. Usually, he would have moved in for the kill without a doubt in his mind. But it just so happened that the object of his desire was none other than John Cale, and if there was one thing that could be said about him, it was that he was anything but usual.

It was not something that Lou cared to admit. He certainly hadn't told John about it. But just because John remained clueless did not mean that Lou's fantasies would go unrealised. He was determined to make sure of that. He had a knack for getting places when he set his mind to it, and over the past few weeks he had set his mind firmly to this.

Up until now, his devious plot to seduce his bandmate had been rather transparent in his mind, but now it had begun to solidify. When he woke up this morning, he had decided, for no apparent reason at all, that today was going to be the day that he would bag John. It was as good a day as any, but he had the added advantage of a perfect alibi: they were booked for a gig tomorrow, which lent perfect credence to Lou's excuse of 'just coming over to rehearse'. Earlier he had called up John and cordially invited himself to his place to jam, telling him Sterling would be coming along as well. What John didn't know, of course, was that Lou had neglected to tell Sterling any of this.

He decided to catch a cab to John's place, as he hated hauling his guitar around on the crowded subway. In the relative silence of the ride over, he considered how he ought to go about this. He could just imagine how John would react if he knew. He figured he better be careful about how he approached the subject.

Upon arriving at John's building, he began to feel rather over-confident. He swaggered down the hall, smirking to himself as he rapped out a pattern of staccato knocks on John's green-painted door. "Hi," he said when John answered, his demeanour giving away nothing.

John glanced over Lou's shoulder. "Sterling's not with you?" he wanted to know.

"He's gonna be a little late," Lou informed him, totally deadpan, although inside he felt quite smarmy. Naturally John suspected nothing, and stepped aside to let him in.

Once inside, Lou began to feel a bit nervous, despite his confidence a minute before. It was the sort of giddy feeling he got when anticipating the steep drop of a roller coaster. The TV was on, but John had obviously turned the sound off when he'd come to answer the door, and the flat was surprisingly quiet. He dropped his things by the door and pushed his hands into his pockets, watching John cross the room into the kitchen.

"So what did you have in mind today?" John called as he leaned in to grab a couple of beers from the 'fridge.

"Um," Lou mumbled, having a hard time concentrating now, as he was too busy staring at John's ass. "Well, I got this idea on the way over here, so I guess I better write it down before I forget it." He hoped saying this would buy him some time to plan his next move.

John didn't seem to have any arguments about this. He shut the refrigerator door, handing one of the bottles to Lou before grabbing a notepad and pen off the kitchen counter and giving him these items as well. "Thanks," Lou said, feeling slightly awkward, and they both made their way to the couch in the living room, where John's bass was already plugged in and leaning against the cushions.

As he sat on the edge of the tatty couch listening to the low tones John was carelessly strumming, Lou scratched out a few half-hearted couplets and wondered how to go about this. Back home, it had all seemed so simple. He was not at all pleased that he was losing his nerve now, in the face of aversion.

He glanced to the side carefully, trying to look like he was paying attention to what he was writing. It was an unnecessary precaution; John had stopped strumming and had fixed his gaze to the TV, obviously too absorbed in the programme to notice that he was being watched. His eyes were slightly red and damp-looking today, Lou noticed; the stark black irises seemed particularly prominent against the backdrop canvas of bloodshot veins. Lou could not help but notice, too, the soft pinkish curve of John's lips, parted just slightly so that he looked strangely young and vulnerable and undeniably sexy. Lou found himself overcome with desire to kiss that pink mouth, taste the Welsh boy's tongue and the lingering fumes of liquor on his breath, and before he realized that he'd moved at all he was leaning in to do just exactly that, as if his body were governed by a force not his own. He was moments from reaching his destination, for better or worse, when John suddenly sneezed wetly down the front of his shirt.

Lou jerked back just in time to avoid getting sprayed, feeling embarrassed and more than a little foolish. John, for his part, remained oblivious to what Lou had been plotting, and was more concerned with the mess he'd made of his shirt. "Bloody hell," he mumbled, plucking some tissues from the coffee table. "I fucking knew I was getting sick. Gerard probably gave it to me, fucking sneezing all over me yesterday." He punctuated the statement by blowing his nose loudly, as if to prove his point.

Lou, who was feeling a bit miffed over the incident, cast a sideways glare at him. "That's fucking disgusting."

John gave him an unimpressed sneer and flung the crumpled tissue into the dustbin in the corner carelessly. "If you don't like it, you can leave," he informed Lou in a surly tone.

Lou was about to do just that, but he remembered what he'd come here for in the first place. Hoping to keep his motivations to himself for the moment, he growled back, "Just shut up and play."

Luckily for him John was willing to do so. As relative peace descended on the apartment once more, Lou reconsidered his plan of attack. He was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. No, scratch that - he was a man who was used to taking what he wanted. He wasn't about to give up just because John had a bad attitude about it.

The question was how to go about it. Getting the Welshman boozed up seemed the logical option, but he doubted that John would be too keen on the idea at the moment. He wasn't much of a fan of pot either so that didn't seem much of a promising prospect.

Thinking about all this was starting to annoy Lou. He found himself becoming quite angry that John was being so difficult (although, to his credit, John hadn't even done anything yet). He turned and glowered at him venomously. John, still blissfully unaware of what was going on in his companion's mind, had dropped his gaze from the television to the floor and was idly picking out a bass line. Seeing him like this - his neck bent in subtle elegance, that shimmering curtain of sable hair falling over his face - was more than Lou could bear. He decided it was time to stop farting around. With an air of finality, he abruptly dropped the notebook on the carpet, then reached over and yanked the bass right out of John's hands, shoving it to the floor where it hit the ground with a low burst of feedback, as if in protest.

"Hey!" John managed.

Lou did not give him a chance to say anything else. Roughly, he pushed the other man back into the cushions of the sofa, leaning over him with a very serious and determined expression. John looked somewhat frightened, but obviously had no clue what Lou was planning. Lou did not bother to warn him. Instead he bent forward and placed a hard kiss right on the Welsh boy's mouth.

It took several seconds for John to respond to this. In that time, Lou found that actually kissing the man was even more enjoyable than he had imagined. He could already feel his cock swelling, tight against the confining denim of his jeans.

Before things could go any further, though, John's sense of awareness seemed to return to him and he jerked back, breaking the kiss. "What the fuck are you doing?" he squeaked, looking quite out of sorts.

To Lou's surprise, John seemed more bewildered than angry. He had expected the latter response to his forthrightness. He had to admit he was a bit relieved, if only because it provided him the opportunity to continue his advances. He smirked, starting to feel quite full of himself again. "This," he answered, and leaned in to kiss John again, at the same time sliding his fingers inside the man's trousers, brushing his member.

This time, however, John responded much more swiftly. He seemed to move in every direction at once, wriggling out from under Lou so quickly that he fell right off the end of the couch, falling gracelessly to the floor. Lou, who remained on the sofa, could not quell his amusement, and laughed.

John saw nothing funny about the situation whatsoever. "What the bloody hell are you laughing at?" he snapped, scrambling awkwardly to his feet. He was starting to blush, although Lou was not sure if that was from anger or embarrassment - maybe both. "You fucking think this is funny, pulling a stunt like that?" He was getting quite loud now. "Is that your idea of a fucking joke?"

Lou held his ground. He climbed off the couch, standing opposite John. "I wasn't joking," he said seriously. He took a purposeful step towards the other man, who in turn took a cautious step back, bumping into the radiator. "I want you, Cale," Lou pressed, now standing very close to him. "I want to fuck you - right here, right now."

He had said these words in the utmost honesty. He had not been quite sure what John would say to that. To his surprise, John didn't say anything - instead he punched Lou right in the teeth.

The blow shocked Lou, and for a moment he completely forgot everything that had just transpired up until the actual point when John's fist met his lip. His mouth was now filled with the coppery taste of blood, and something about that ignited some animalistic fury in him, even more so than the actual belting itself. Enraged, he hauled off and punched John back.

The blow was substantial enough to cause John to stumble backwards, and he bumped the radiator again, nearly tripping over it. After a moment, Lou saw a bright rivulet of blood run from John's nose, slowly sliding over his upper lip. John seemed to notice it too, but did not bother to wipe it away.

They squared off against each other, both of them now panting and bloody, glaring needles at one another. It was then that something happened that Lou could not quite explain. Up until that moment, he had been feeling nothing but rage towards John. But something about the way the red, red blood trickled down the man's lip, the way his dark eyes glowed with anger, the sound of his heavy breathing as it rushed past his luscious parted lips, suddenly ignited some primitive, bestial arousal in him, and before he knew it he had jerked the other man towards him by the fabric of his shirt and was tied in a violent kiss with him, blood passing between their mouths and smearing on their lips. John was just as shocked as Lou was, but what was most surprising was the fact that he did not immediately pull away. Whether by accident or otherwise, they remained locked in the kiss for several long seconds before John's doubt set in again, and he started to pull back. He was so busy with Lou that he forgot about the radiator yet again, and this time did trip on it. Tangled up as they were he ended up pulling Lou down with him, and the two of them crashed clumsily to the floor with such force that the whole building seemed to shake at the impact.

Lou, who had the advantage of having John as a landing pad, recovered rather quickly and immediately took note of John's demeanour, expecting him to be pretty pissed off by now. Upon inspection he found he was still safe, at least for the moment: the fall had obviously been a lot more painful for John than it had been for Lou, made all the more so by the fact that the American was still on top of him, and he hadn't seemed to have recovered from it yet. Lou knew that he had to act quickly if he didn't want this to turn into an all-out brawl in a few seconds. He slid off John, crouching next to him on his hands and knees.

John's thighs were spread, his knees bent, and Lou's eyes went immediately to the bulge between the Welsh boy's legs. Seeing John like this was really getting to him now. He wanted more than anything to do just exactly what he'd told John he'd wanted to do - fuck him, right here, right now - but judging by the man's reaction to that statement he wouldn't respond too favourably if Lou tried that just yet. He decided he better do something else to bring Johnny over to his side.

Quickly disengaging the buttons on John's bluejeans, Lou yanked the trousers to John's knees before he had a chance to argue. He wasn't wearing underwear, Lou noticed - 'Naughty boy,' he thought, taking the liberty of grabbing hold of John's cock. "Lou!" John yelped desperately, and attempted to push himself up on his elbows, but Lou drew his tongue slowly across his shaft, bringing him immediately to a halt. "Oh," John whispered, forgetting himself for a moment, and Lou smiled as he felt the Welshman begin to stiffen in his hand.

"Yeah, you like that, huh?" Lou growled, grinning. He squeezed John lightly, running his fingers deftly across him, dipping his head again to lick his tongue over the tip. John gave a small gasp, his back arching slightly, at once seeming to pull away and lean in to the caress.

By this point, the Welsh boy had grown quite stiff. His cock was now standing at attention, straining for Lou's mouth despite his earlier reluctance. Lou bent his head once more, holding on to John's hips to brace himself, and wrapped his lips around him.

The combined taste of blood and flesh sent a wave of arousal through Lou, and he longed to touch himself as he did this, but resisted. That would come later. For now, he concentrated his efforts on working John over. Judging by the soft moans and gasps that escaped his throat Lou could tell he was enjoying it. And the knowledge that John didn't want to enjoy it only excited him all the more. He moved his head a bit quicker now, swirling his tongue as he went.

"Oh, God, Lou -" John groaned, his fingers digging into the carpet. Lou couldn't help but be amused at hearing his name on John's lips in the throes of ecstasy. He wondered if John would say that he still respected him, when he'd finished him off.

Suddenly an idea came into his mind. He was enjoying this activity, but he didn't want John getting cheeky. If he thought just because Lou was sucking him off he'd be calling all the shots now, he had another thing coming. Besides, pushing John's buttons was something of a hobby of his. He smiled inwardly at his wicked plan.

Judging by the sounds John was making, he was very close to orgasm. It was the perfect opportunity for Lou. Just as John was about to come, he let go of him and gave him a hard bite on the inside of his thigh.

What was most shocking, though, was that John actually seemed to enjoy it. He yelped in pain of course, but he also shot off all over Lou's face.

It was intriguing. As Lou licked the salty cum from his lips, wiping the rest away with his palm, he watched the Welsh boy as he lay panting on the carpet. Did John have a masochistic side? He never would have thought so before, but after what had just transpired the seed planted in his mind had begun to grow. He considered it as he waited for John to catch his breath.

A few minutes later, when John had managed to get his trousers back on (rather embarrassedly), he turned to Lou. "What the hell was that bite for?" he wanted to know.

Lou shrugged. "I just wanted to see what you'd do," he told him, which was untrue, but he was still trying to feel John out.

Unfortunately John offered him no clues, staring mildly at the carpet. "I can't believe you did that," he said finally.

"Sure you can," Lou smirked, leaning on one hand, his legs stretched out in front of him. "What, did you forget who you were talking to, here?"

John managed a slight laugh at that, but he still looked rather perturbed.

"And I guess you're just gonna leave me here with blue balls," said Lou.

John stared at him incredulously. "You want me to suck you off?" he asked, as if it were a totally alien concept.

"Not exactly," Lou said, with a sort of half-smile.

John was starting to look nervous again. "Look, Lou," he started, and at this edged backwards, just a bit, "I don't like guys."

"Yeah, well, I don't like you very much," Lou said dryly. "That doesn't mean I don't want to fuck you."

John did not see the humour in that statement.

"Come on, man," Lou urged, slipping in to his very best Used Car Salesman voice. "How do you even know you won't like it, if you've never tried it?"

John scowled at him. "You're fucking crazy, you know that?"

"You don't know the half of it," Lou purred suggestively. He reached for John's hand, brushing his fingers, but the other man pulled away.

"Stop," he said, although it sounded more like a plea than a command. "What if somebody comes in and sees us?"

"Nobody's gonna see us," Lou scoffed.

John gave him a rather exasperated look. "What about Sterl?"

"He's not coming," Lou told him matter-of-factly.

"How d'you know?"

"Because I didn't tell him to." John's expression at this statement was most entertaining. He was starting to look like he had just realized he wasn't in Kansas anymore.

"You mean to tell me that the only reason you came over here was to try to pull me?" John asked, very slowly, as if he could hardly comprehend the words himself.

Lou smiled. "You got it."

John stared at him with a look that could only be described as a marriage between disbelief and vague confusion. "Are you serious?" he said finally, almost as if he hoped that Lou wasn't.

"You think I'd be sucking your dick if I was fucking joking?" Lou deadpanned.

"Jesus."

"I know." Lou grinned wryly. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be sucking off John Cale."

John was not offended. "Neither did I," he mumbled, starting to look a bit more pale than usual.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Lou asked teasingly, knowing full well that it hadn't been - the evidence of that was still sticky on his hands.

"Well..." John started, and then blushed deep crimson. "Fucking hell, what am I saying." He covered his eyes with his hand.

"Come on," Lou pressed, speaking low and husky, almost a whisper. "Haven't you ever thought about it? Haven't you ever wondered what it might be like?"

John still did not open his eyes. He'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about it. Still, he'd never imagined his first experience with another man would be with Lou Reed, of all fucking people. What was even more distressing was knowing that Lou had been thinking about him. And probably for a while now.

It was at this point, while John still sat with his eyes covered by the palm of his hand, that Lou suddenly leaned over and kissed him once again. It was odd, because John found that with his eyes closed like this, kissing Lou felt just like kissing a woman. He found his lips slowly parting, allowing Lou to slip his tongue into his mouth, and he was startled at just how pleasurable to feeling was. Lou knew what he was doing. His trousers were already beginning to feel a bit too tight again.

This did not escape Lou, despite his preoccupation. Sliding his hand between John's legs, he began to rub him lightly through his jeans, his fingers coursing up and down his stiffening member. John gave the softest moan into Lou's mouth, and as their tongues swirled around each other Lou could feel himself growing hard again as well. Easing himself forward he gingerly pressed John to the floor, his own body now on top of him, crouching over him on his hands and knees. Doing so caused their hips to be pressed against each other, and the sensation of grinding against John was really starting to get to Lou. He broke the kiss and began to nibble lightly at John's throat, at the same time moving his hands to tug at the hem of the man's shirt.

John really seemed to enjoy this treatment. He dropped his head back to allow Lou access to his bare throat, which the latter naturally took advantage of. He'd now pulled John's shirt all the way up, exposing his smooth chest and soft belly, and he moved his tongue now from his throat to his nipples, licking and sucking lightly, his teeth grazing the tender flesh.

Surprisingly, John didn't object to this either. He seemed too caught up in the heat of the moment to remember that he was not supposed to like boys. To Lou's amazement (and delight), the Welshman even went as far as removing his shirt completely, tossing it aside on the carpet. He still had not laid a hand on Lou, as if doing so would be an admission that he was liking this (although one only had to look as far as his groin to know that he obviously was), but Lou was not concerned over that. This was going far better than he had ever expected it too, and as he nibbled at the gentle curve of John's belly he felt quite pleased with the way things were going.

Nearing John's fly for the second time that day, he started to undo the buttons once again, but this time John stopped him. "Let me," he said, almost apologetically. Obviously he was still quite nervous about this venture. Letting Lou disrobe him was a bit too formal.

Lou thought it was cute. As he watched John shyly slide out of his jeans, he quickly began discarding his own clothes, which were feeling much too confining for his tastes at the moment. Now, with both of them crouching nude on the carpet, Lou stood on all fours facing John, his eyes gleaming with predatory excitement. John, on the other hand, still looked rather anxious. "Um... maybe we should go in the bedroom," he said, glancing towards the door. Clearly he was still worried about Sterling showing up. Lou snickered inwardly at this. Did he really think that he'd go this far just to embarrass John? But then, if he was really that worried about it, he wouldn't have agreed to this in the first place. With that in mind, Lou thought things were looking quite promising.

"Fine," he said, and stood up, helping John up off the floor. "I'll be back in a minute." As John started down the hallway, Lou made a grab for his guitar case, still propped by the door, where he'd cleverly stashed a small jar of Vaseline. Always prepared, like a true boy scout. He kind of doubted that they'd be giving out merit badges for this sort of thing any time soon.

Heading down the hall, he found John sitting on the edge of the unmade bed waiting for him. By the look on his face, you'd think he was waiting to be sent to the electric chair. Lou found that to be rather funny. "Ready?" he asked huskily.

John swallowed. "I guess so."

Lou joined him on the bed, John now on all fours with Lou on his knees behind him. As Lou began to slick himself with the Vaseline, John glanced slightly over his shoulder, not meeting the other man's eyes. "...Does it hurt?"

Lou smirked. "I'll be gentle."

John was quite aware that Lou was teasing him, and looked none too pleased about that. But he made no arguments, instead dropping his head between his shoulders, staring down at the mattress.

Fingers now heavily coated in Vaseline, Lou gently probed John's virgin behind, slipping in first one finger, then another and so on. He could hear John's soft intake of breath at this, and smiled to himself in anticipation.

He started to slide in to him, but after only a moment John gasped in pain, arching his shoulders. "Ssh... just relax," Lou urged helpfully, although he had to admit the knowledge that he'd hurt him was turning him on. Besides, if what he'd been considering earlier was correct, maybe John was enjoying the pain as much as Lou was.

After a few more seconds, Lou eased his hips forward again. John tensed a bit at this, but after a moment he seemed to relax. Feeling the blazing heat of John's body was incredible. Lou began to rock his hips slightly, slowly sliding in and out of him.

It was clear that now John was beginning to feel the pleasure Lou had promised he would. He leaned back a little, pressing his ass against Lou's hips. Encouraged, Lou began to buck against him a bit harder, at the same time drawing one hand under John's belly to fondle his cock, already dripping precum.

As Lou began to rub him in sync with his ever-accelerating thrusts, John arched his back, amazed at how good this felt. It was enough to make him forget his previous doubts, at least for the moment, and he let his head drop to rest against the mattress, panting against the sheets. They were both quite sweaty now, moving at times in unison and other times on their own accord, grinding against each other with increasing fervour. Lou could feel himself nearing orgasm, and with his free hand held on to John's hips, pulling him closer to himself. The smell of sweat and sex filled his brain, beckoning him ever closer to his peak.

A few moments later the feeling became too much for Lou, and he came deep inside of John, his hips rocking spasmodically as all conscious thought was lost to the primitive pleasure. John came as well a second later, squirting onto Lou's fingers and the sheets, his hands fisted in the bedclothes as his bones were wracked by the orgasm and the movements of Lou's body on top of him. They remained this way for several long moments, lost in sexual oblivion, before they finally parted and both collapsed on the bed, exhausted and panting.

"Fucking hell," John mumbled breathlessly, still lying on his belly with his face pressed to the sweaty sheets.

Lou, who was lying on his back with one leg now draped over the edge of the bed, glanced at him with a wry grin. "I told you you'd like it." He wiped some sweat off his forehead.

John rolled over onto his back, now staring blearily up at the ceiling. "I still can't believe we did this."

"Believe it, Johnny," said Lou, tilting his head back dreamily. Truthfully, he could scarcely believe it himself. He had never expected things to go so smoothly. He was beginning to feel quite pleased with himself. Having caught his breath, he helped himself to a cigarette from the pack on the nightstand and reconsidered what had transpired earlier. What if John really did have a masochistic streak? That opened up all sorts of possibilities. He'd already managed to get in his pants (twice!). If he could convince John to let him take things in that direction, well, there would be no stopping him.

But to do that, he would have to know for sure. He wondered how to bring up the subject. He decided to take the logical route and tease John about it. On one hand, if John really did feel that way, his response would probably give as much away. On the other, if he didn't, it would irritate him that Lou had suggested it, and that in itself was worth a lot.

Exhaling a stream of smoke, he rolled his head to the side towards John, who was still staring up at the ceiling, looking slightly pensive. "You know, John," he started carefully, pausing to take another drag on his cigarette, "I never would have guessed you were so into pain."

The Welshman looked rather surprised by the comment. He glared at Lou. "You're off your fucking head, if you think that," he said flatly, making it quite clear that it was not a subject he cared to discuss.

Lou was not put off. "Oh, get off it, you little masochist," he said, egging the man on. "You fucking love it and you know it. You sure seemed to enjoy me biting you. I bet you'd love for me to whip your scrawny ass." He couldn't deny the alluring aspect of the thought.

"Shut your yap, Reed," John snapped irritably, his accent becoming slightly more pronounced in his annoyance. He turned away towards the wall, clearly stating that he did not wish to continue the conversation.

Lou did not give up so easily. "Oh, come on," he drawled, quite enjoying himself, "remember who you're talking to here. I can always tell." He added that part in just to make John nervous. Truthfully, he'd never imagined that John might be a masochist until this very day, but he wasn't about to tell him that.

"Shows how much you know," John said, mostly to himself.

Lou quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Leave me alone."

Lou was becoming impatient. He reached over with his free hand and pushed John a little. "Come on, Severin," he taunted, "it's time to come out of the closet already." He rubbed John's shoulder, pretending to be supportive. "Go ahead. You'll feel better."

John was obviously in no mood for Lou's games anymore. He smacked the man's hand away, glowering at him. "You better back off, Reed," he warned, his expression dangerous.

"Oh, I'm trembling," Lou said mockingly. Seeing John like this was turning him on again. He hoped he could incite the Welsh boy to the same level of anger it had taken for him to clock him earlier. Something about that animalistic fury in John was unbelievably sexy.

Much to his dismay, John did not seem to have anything interesting in mind. Fed up with Lou's immature pestering, he growled "Piss off" and rolled off the bed, stalking sulkily into the living room.

"Ah, fuck you," Lou said to his retreating form. He sighed in disappointment, crunching out the end of his cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand. He was still rather horny, but he didn't want to deal with John when he was like this. Besides that, he was tired from the earlier goings-on. At least now he had the bed to himself. Rolling onto his belly, he stretched himself out in the centre of the mattress, and after a few minutes fell asleep.

~~~

When Lou woke up, he felt immediately that something was amiss, but he could not put a finger on what it might be. He lifted his head, peering out the window; it was light out, probably close to sundown by the look of it. John was still not around. He wondered idly what he was up to, still feeling rather randy. Sighing, he started to roll over onto his back, but something tugging at his wrist stopped him.

It was at this point that he realized what was wrong. A thin, white nylon cord was tied around his wrist, trailing up to the headboard. As he stared at it in disbelief, it occurred to him that his other wrist, too, was bound to the headboard. Shocked, he started to push himself up onto his hands and knees only to find, to his horror, his ankles bound as well. The ropes were loose enough to allow him a bit of movement, but there was no way he would be able to get off the bed any time soon.

For a long moment, he was unable to imagine how this had happened. It was pretty clear that elves hadn't slipped in while he was asleep and done it, but at the moment he was so flabbergasted that his mind was having trouble catching up to the facts. Presently he heard a sort of crunching sound from somewhere behind him, and he twisted his neck to look over his shoulder.

John was leaning in the doorway watching him, eating an apple. Lou's mind suddenly snapped into place quite severely, and he found himself at once overcome with rage at what John had done as well as impressed that he'd thought to do it - and had managed to do it without waking him up.

"Hi there," said Cale, smirking.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Lou demanded. He was quite pissed off about the situation, but he was also starting to become very nervous. This was not a position he wanted to be in with John around, not at all. He hoped it didn't show on his face.

Whether it did or not was a moot point. John obviously knew he had Lou right where he wanted him. "You'll see," he said plainly, still smiling. He held up the half-eaten apple. "Want some?"

"I want you to untie me, you twat!" Lou retorted nastily. He tugged at the ropes around his wrists, but they refused to even loosen.

"Ah, what fun'd that be?" John teased, grinning wolfishly.

John's mocking attitude was really starting to irritate Lou. Although he realized he ought to try to cooperate with John if he didn't want to be simply left alone here or worse, his ego was hurting too much to do anything of the sort. "You mother fucker," he snarled, twisting around to try to face his companion better, "if you don't untie me right now, I swear to God, when I get out of here I'm gonna kick your fucking teeth in!"

John crossed his arms over his chest, not looking very intimidated by the threats. "'Mother fucker', eh? Real persuasive, Lou. But flattery will get you nowhere." He dropped the remains of the apple in the dustbin and slowly made his way towards the bed, his hands folded behind his back.

Lou wondered what he was planning to do. John had a vivid imagination. It could be quite nasty at times. Lou dreaded finding out what he had in mind today, especially considering that he'd been teasing John unmercifully earlier.

John was now standing at the foot of the bed. His arms were still folded, and he stared down at Lou with a most bizarre expression akin to admiration. Lou stared back at him over his shoulder suspiciously. His neck was starting to ache, but he didn't trust John well enough to turn his back on him - not that he could have done anything anyway.

"So, you think I'm a masochist, eh Lou?" John said calmly, his eyes shining like pools of ink, although his expression was still unnervingly serene. "Why don't we just see who the masochist is here, hmm?"

Lou did not like the way this was going. He was starting to wonder just what he'd gotten himself into.

John bent and picked something up from the floor. 'A belt,' Lou realized, feeling his skin begin to prickle at the thought of what John was going to do with it. On one hand, after everything that had gone on, he was getting off fairly easy. On the other, he already knew being whipped with the belt was not going to be anything pleasant.

John drew the black leather strap slowly through his fingers. He appeared quite smug. "Are you scared?" he asked mockingly, obviously finding the whole situation amusing to no end.

Lou glared at him. "Fuck off," he snapped.

John was unfazed. "I figured you'd say that," he sighed. He folded the belt over on itself. "You know, this is really gonna hurt."

The sound was almost as bad as the slap itself - hearing the subtle clink of the buckles, the sound of air rushing past as the strap neared it's destination, the anticipation of the sting he knew was coming making the actual blow even worse. The belt smacked him right across the ass, making an audible cracking noise as the leather connected with his flesh, sending electric waves of intense pain racing across the spot before the feeling slowly subsided into a dull throbbing heat. He grit his teeth to squelch a cry of pain, finding some grounding in the fury that bubbled just below it.

"God damn it," he breathed through clenched teeth. "When I'm finished with you, you fucking bastard, you'll -" His threat was cut short by another stroke of the belt, and this time he gasped aloud, gripping at the bed sheets, his hands trembling a bit.

"You never give up, do you?" John quipped, shaking his head. "Why should you have all the fun, anyway? You don't know how long I've wanted to do this..."

Lou glanced over his shoulder again, having regained his composure, although the welts across his behind were still stinging. "I never would have thought you liked boys."

"I don't," John said haughtily, swiping the belt down again. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Good answer," Lou growled through the searing pain of the latest welt.

"I'm glad you think so." He cracked the belt down again. "Had enough yet?"

"Go fuck yourself."

John smiled wryly. "I guess not." He brought the belt down again, harder than before. Much to Lou's surprise, he did not pause between floggings this time, and lay the belt down again immediately after, crossing the previous welt.

"Ah!" Lou cried. "You fucking sadistic bastard! What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Not so nice when you're on the receiving end, is it?" John sneered. He dropped the belt on the floor; Lou could hear the buckle clink when it landed. This worried him more than anything. If John had abandoned the belt, there was a good chance that he was going to switch to something nastier.

Hearing John opening one of the drawers in the chest by the door confirmed his fears. He craned his neck, trying to see what the man was up to. Surprisingly, John produced nothing more formidable than a smallish pocket knife, and rather than using it on his bound victim (as Lou had expected him to) he began sawing the ropes that held Lou's ankles.

"You're letting me go?" Lou asked, amazed.

"No, not just yet," John replied conversationally. "I'm not quite as vicious as you think I am, you know. I won't send you home empty-handed." He glanced up from his work to give Lou a conspiratory smile. "So to speak."

Lou was not amused. "I guess the welts all over my ass weren't good enough souvenirs?" he asked sarcastically.

"Who the hell are you to complain?" John snapped, standing upright. "What the fuck do you call this?" He pointed at the bite mark on his thigh, which was already beginning to turn purple.

"You're telling me you didn't enjoy it?" Lou countered, feeling a bit more confident despite the fact that he was still tied to the bed.

"You're telling me you didn't enjoy this?" John asked, raising an eyebrow, before going back to cutting away the ropes.

"I didn't," Lou sniffed. "Not in the least." 'And you're not going to enjoy what I do to you when you untie me, you little snot,' he added mentally.

John said nothing to that, but Lou had the feeling that he was pleased to hear it. He wondered what John was planning to do now. His statements a minute ago about 'not sending him home empty handed' had been cryptic at best. He wasn't in the mood for a surprise, especially given the circumstances.

Now the ropes had been cut from his ankles, and Lou crawled up onto his hands and knees. With his wrists still tied close to the headboard, he still could not turn around, except to look over his shoulder as he had before. He could see John fiddling about with something, but at this angle he could not tell what it was. That had him more worried than ever.

The creaking of the bedsprings and the slight wobbling of the mattress alerted Lou to John's presence on the bed, but he did not turn around this time, not wanting to give John the satisfaction of knowing he was nervous. It was not until he felt slick fingers sliding over the curve of his ass, grazing the searing welts, that he realized what John was up to.

"Oh, so that's your game, is it?" he asked over his shoulder, and John laughed lowly.

"You catch on quick, Reed," he growled, giving Lou's ass a hard squeeze.

Lou was still not certain how he felt about this. "I thought you said you didn't like boys," he said, his eyes on the bed sheets now.

"I don't," John said again. "Which says a lot about what I think of you, doesn't it." He laughed again.

"Shut the fuck up," Lou snarled, although the more he thought about John riding him the better it sounded, as much as he hated to admit that.

Feeling John begin to slide into him, he tried to hang on to that contempt and ignore the fact that it actually felt quite nice. But as John began to move his hips - tentatively at first, still unsure - he started having a very hard time trying to convince himself that he didn't like it. The irony was that he figured this was exactly how John had felt before. Thinking of that again gave his mind something else to concentrate on. He decided to make the best of this, closing his eyes, letting the sensation wash over him.

Now John arched his hips upward pleasantly, and Lou tilted his head back, his breath catching in his throat. There were not many people he'd let do this - not that he'd had too much of a choice this time - but John was surprisingly apt at it considering he'd never fucked a man before... or so he claimed. He'd have to remember to bring that up, later on.

Feeling more confident now, John had begun to rock his hips steadily, holding on to Lou's body and pulling him towards himself. Lou's cock was dripping and throbbing to the point where it was almost painful, but John still refused to touch him. Instead, he was cruelly squeezing Lou's ass, making the pink welts there sting and ache all over again, and Lou was surprised to find that something about that mixture of pain and arousal was achingly erotic. He felt that he might come at any moment, whether John touched his cock or not.

John was still grinding away, and by the sound of it quite close to coming himself. Lou longed to touch his swollen cock, but the ropes around his wrists held his hands tightly tethered to the headboard. When he was quite certain that he could stand no more, John suddenly let go of him and gave him a hard slap right on the ass.

The stinging blow sent him over the edge. He would have been quite surprised at this if he still had any blood in his head to be able to think, but at the moment all he could concentrate on was the orgasm jolting through his frame, an electric current flowing through his body from between his legs.

John obviously appreciated the fact that the swat had made Lou come, for he, too, climaxed a few seconds later, leaning over Lou's back in what was almost like an embrace. As Lou's mind came back to him, he glanced down and saw, much to his amusement, that he'd spilled his cum all over John's sheets. He figured John'd have a hard time explaining that one to other people.

After a long moment John slid out of him, sitting back on his haunches. Lou was feeling quite tired again by now, but he stayed on all fours, not wanting to lie in the mess. Still breathing heavily, he glanced over his shoulder at John. "Are you gonna let me go now? Or are you gonna keep me here as your sex slave?"

John gave him a contemptuous look. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he retorted, and went to get the pocket knife off the top of the dresser where he'd left it.

When he'd been cut loose, Lou sat on the edge of the bed watching John, who was standing opposite him by the door. "You really are a vicious bastard, you know that?" he told him.

"And you're not?" John sneered.

"We've already established that I am," Lou said sardonically. He shook his head mildly. "I just never would have expected all this from you."

John shrugged haughtily. "I guess you don't know me as well as you thought you did."

'You can say that again,' Lou thought, but he chose not to answer.

As pissed off as Lou had been when he'd awoken to find himself tied to the bed, he was surprised to find that his anger had subsided now. He found it very odd to think that he had been the one to enjoy pain like that... it was something he had never considered before. What had him really concerned, though, was the fear that John might try to take advantage of that. He decided he better keep an eye on him from now on. Even as interesting as the experience had been, he didn't want to relinquish control to John - especially since he clearly had a sadistic side, as the stinging on his behind reminded him.

Still, he didn't feel he could just let John get away with all this. But beating him senseless would be too easy. Prolonged torture - especially in front of other people - would be so much more fun. Besides, whether John had realized it yet or not, Lou now had something on him, and he knew already that he was going to enjoy holding it over his head.

He was still feeling quite tired, but he knew better than to fall asleep in John's bed again so he decided to split. Once he was dressed John practically pushed him out the door, obviously worried that perhaps his neighbours had overheard something during the day and would put two and two together when they saw Lou coming out of the flat. Just in case they hadn't, Lou made a point of shouting "Fuck you later!" before John shut the door in his face, although that was more for Cale's benefit than anybody's. Laughing to himself, he headed down the hallway to the elevators, tapping on the light fixtures as he went.

~~~

When Lou woke up the next day, he found he had a headache. He was not immediately surprised by this. That is, until he realized that he hadn't gotten drunk last night. The memories of yesterday's happenings suddenly flooded back into his mind, and though he could see in his mind's eye quite clearly what had gone on, he was still having trouble believing it. But he had enough proof right here, seeing as, judging by his aching head, he'd caught John's cold.

Sitting up, rubbing his eyes blearily, he had a look at the clock. It was later than he had realized, almost time for him to show up for their gig. He yawned and swung his legs over the bed, stumbling into the bathroom for a shower.

As he stood under the pounding stream of hot water, Lou went over the events at John's flat in his mind again. Thinking about it was making him horny again. He laughed to himself, wondering what John would have to say to him today. He tried to imagine the look on John's face if Lou said something like 'Morning, honey!' when he saw him later tonight. The thought was so amusing that he laughed aloud, only to descend into a spell of dangerous-sounding coughing a moment later.

Shutting off the water, he grabbed a towel off the rack and went to get dressed. He could hardly contain his excitement, despite feeling like his lungs had been filled with used motor oil. He was quite looking forward to seeing John today, perhaps even more than he had been yesterday. He didn't know which was more entertaining: screwing John or tormenting him. He felt quite lucky that he was getting to do both in the same week.

The club they were playing tonight was within walking distance from his apartment, but he caught a cab anyway, not feeling like hauling his junk around. When he arrived at the neon-lit brick building, he entered through the back door as per usual, finding Moe and Sterl waiting for him but John nowhere to be seen. Slightly disappointed, he put down his guitar and took a seat on the amp next to Sterling (carefully, as his butt was still sore from the thrashing John had given him yesterday), then sneezed into the crook of his elbow, twice in succession.

Sterling glanced up at him. "Catching a cold?"

"Looks that way," Lou sighed, sniffling lightly. He smiled inwardly, wondering what Sterling's reaction would be if he told him just how he'd caught this cold.

Just then, Lou heard the back door opening again and turned to see John entering, dragging his equipment behind him. He was wearing a black trench coat with the buttons all fastened, although it wasn't very cold outside. Lou made a point of trying to catch his glance, but John kept his gaze on the floor, shyly mumbling his greetings to the others.

Lou could hardly keep himself from laughing at the sight of John's behaviour. He was obviously worried that Lou might have told Sterling and Moe about what had gone on the day before. What he didn't know was that Lou was just as embarrassed to admit that he'd slept with John Cale and John was to admit he'd slept with Lou Reed.

He was just about to make some remark to worry him a little more when John, who was doing his very best to ignore Lou, paused on his way towards the amps and sneezed damply. Moe looked up from where she sat tuning her drums. "Sounds like you caught Lou's cold."

John's face seemed to turn several hues paler for a moment, and he finally met Lou's gaze with an expression that clearly stated 'Tell me you didn't tell them.'

"Yeah, John," Lou said slyly, all innocence. "Wonder how that happened."

John blushed a bright shade of pink at this, while Lou continued to smirk at him like some naughty schoolboy and Sterling cast suspicious but clearly amused glances between the two. Moe, for her part, just shook her head and went on adjusting her drums.