Balance of Power

disclaimer: never met. don't know. and ain't making profit from Alan Rickman - or David Thewlis. thank you @_@

Balance of Power


Alan never thought of David as a looker, per se. He was just one of those interesting guys with nice hair, questionable mannerisms and a decent ass. He spoke well enough and dressed like some kind of failed college student, even at the tender age of well beyond forty in his rumpled sweaters and slept-in jeans.

The older actor pondered him as he searched in a knick knack shop for the perfect little trinket. He wanted to surprise him and he wanted him to be thrilled. Alan always liked matching the right gift with the right person and almost had it down to a science. He had a wallet full of large bills as he hated using plastic to pay for anything and he hated paper trails. He didn’t like the idea of sales girls going back through his records and reviewing his personal purchases or making copies of his receipts for their own personal uses and masturbatory fodder. Even if that fodder was simply a pair of socks or matchbooks – not that he was arrogant! In fact, he still had a difficult time imagining why anyone would find him attractive outside the realm of sweet old fatherly type or quiet, introverted neighbor. Still, he wasn’t dumb. He’d seen, against his own will, the website blogs on his behalf. It upset him even more how far off the mark most of them were. Sensitive and private? Perhaps. Reserved and emblematic? Well… that was a matter of perspective.

Inside the trinket shop, he found things Thewlis might enjoy. Leather bound note pads inscribed with Japanese messages about prosperity, tiny glass elephants marbled with opal - trunks up! Neckties with random numbers embroidered across them in crimson on a black and blue background, Charlie Chaplin hats in black felt. Alan smirked at these. His compatriot had tastes bordering what some kids might consider ‘lame’, but still, somehow it was endearing. And after all, David wasn’t a child but rather an adolescent trapped inside the lanky slightly, hunched body of a rapidly approaching middle aged man. Even now, he was probably tapping away on the controller of some video game because he was such a boy at heart. It warmed Alan to think of him now.

Downtown Los Angeles was old in its own way. There was a nostalgia that Alan didn’t experience the way he felt in downtown London or even in Wales. The streets were so cluttered with shops and displaced things and displaced people that it covered up a lot of what should have been visible to the naked eye, but as it was, one needed to be a trained observer to see the real gems, the stuff that made it unique and genuine. Alan pushed past it all, glad for the anonymity.

He wasn’t likely to be recognized most days because off screen, he merely looked like a tall rumpled older gentleman carrying a camel hair satchel, blond white hair flowing with the wind across a tanned forehead, sunglasses, like Superman’s disguise, distorting him enough to let him get by.

He was brave enough to walk the streets but not brave enough to take a train lest he get caught in a car with a fan and be trapped for several blocks or be caught in the crossfire of some random gang conflict – which wasn’t likely, but always possible. He was getting tired from walking and weary from the sun, that late summer heat that was a shade or two away from oppressive. David would be waiting for him, he thought. But he wouldn’t wait forever. Unlike Alan, Thewlis had obligations somewhere in the ballpark of wife and children.

“I need to go to the Hollywood Donwtowner.” he said to the cab driver who seemed in transit. He was a younger Arab gentleman in a Raiders Jersey and sans the turban. His teeth were gold, and he wore an earring. Trying to fit in? Alan wondered as he slid inside and sat behind him, marveling in his head full of greasy black curls.

The ride was short, however, because Alan had no clue he was only two or three blocks from the rustic hotel where the gate was painted over rust but still functional. He paid the driver a twenty-dollar bill and got out, carrying his satchel up the four or five stone stairs to the gate.

An older Indian man greeted him with a nod and gestured towards the room up towards the left stair, the hotel itself surrounding a shaded pool front and center.

Alan got to the threshold, feeling a bit uneasy but standing his ground and knocked lightly on the door with the number twelve on it in brass. David appeared almost immediately, cigarette smoke billowing out behind him. He was shirtless and pale, unusually so, his hair slightly reddish falling over his brow.

“Come in.” he said hurriedly, ushering Alan inside. “It’s not posh. Sorry. I know you’re used to better.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Alan shut the door behind him and left his satchel on a chair in the corner. It was covered with a flowered hand woven sham of some design. “I’ve brought you something.”

David smirked, those quirky lips of his, crooked, full, wet. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Alan let his eyes appraise the other man, his long frame in brown pants, Nikes. Nothing else, apparently. His eyes were bluish in this light although they’ve been known to shift to green. Something about David always appeared nubile, untouched, his white skin unmarred. Something inside Alan wanted to leave his skin disturbed with scratches or a cigarette burn, but he dismissed those thoughts. They were alarming to him – and simultaneously exciting. At his age, he liked to embrace these new revelations but figured now wasn’t the time.

In turn, David looked over Rickman, whose hazel eyes were shadowed beneath an unruly mop of windblown hair, rather full for his age. Also, he was perpetually layered in sweater, shirt, undershirt, scarf. Even his pants seemed layered somehow – but his shoes were always impeccable, expensive. This was a man with great taste in shoes. It was as if leather was made for his feet. David wondered what kind of socks he wore and instead of wondering further, he kneeled down and checked, much to Alan’s surprise. His long lithe fingers lifted the pant leg and drew his fingers up and down argyle socks in navy and pink.

“What are you doing?” Alan murmured, amused in spite of himself.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, man.” David whispered. “These socks…”

“What’s wrong with my socks?”

David stood and faced Alan again, shaking his head, his expression endearing. “Nothing is wrong with your socks. They’re marvelous.” He smiled, resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder, then his cheek. “You’re marvelous. What’d you bring me?”

Alan pulled himself away from David’s touch. “Not much. Just a little something. Surely you won’t like it.”

“I like everything.”

Alan grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He rummaged in the bag until he found what he was looking for. When he produced the small black jewelry box and laid it in the flat of his palm, Thewlis looked a bit apprehensive until Alan chuckled at him. “Don’t worry. It’s not an engagement ring.”

“You always overdo yourself.” David’s eyes stared at the box, but he did not move to reach for it.

“Take it.” Alan said in a soft voice. “Don’t be afraid.”

Thewlis hesitated only a moment before reaching for the box. He opened it and peered inside at the thin platinum chain, almost glowing against the black velvet. He was gaping as the tips of his ears blazed red. “This is too much.”

Alan shrugged, nonchalant. “Put it on.”

“I like quirky trinkets and maybe the errant butt plug – not fucking red carpet jewelry.” David was fuming. “Take it back.”

“Put it on.”

“You’re not getting your way this time, Rickman.” Thewlis seemed hurt now. “I didn’t want anything like this and I’m not wearing it. Take it back.”

Alan searched the other mans face for a time before shrugging one shoulder. “Alright then. I’ll just go.” and he moved to gather his things.

David’s blue eyes shifted as he watched, and he hated to admit the panic he felt. He didn’t expect this encounter to go this way. He had initially thought he and Alan might chat a bit, play around, Alan would give him a little gift and then David would give him a little blowjob and life would continue on as normal. He hated when shit got in the way. He hated gifts like this – especially from Alan. He never knew how to interpret it and he didn’t like to try. It only complicated things.

“Don’t…” he murmured. “… don’t go.”

Alan turned and looked at him. “Will you at least try it on?”

“What do you mean ‘try it on?’ It’s not like a vest or knickers…” his voice trailed off.

Alan opened the box again and took out the chain. He knew that David wouldn’t protest now even if he hated himself in the morning, even if he forgot to take it off and his wife made an inquiry about it and he found himself floundering through a bad lie.

He approached David and held up his hands, silently gesturing for David to come closer so that he could put it round his neck. And after a few seconds of fizzled down defiance, David complied. It was physically impossible for him to resist Alan. It would have taken everything he had to resist and it still wouldn’t have been enough.

Alan’s hands were large but deft as he unclasped the band and reached around him to fasten it. He was careful not to touch his skin so that his actions wouldn’t be misconstrued. No, David wasn’t his concubine or boy toy. He actually enjoyed having him, even upright and quivering like he was now. Like a frightened little boy.

David was facing away from him and his white skin held a slight glistening sheen. Alan bent down to inhale his scent and wrinkled his nose.

“You smell.” he murmured, resisting the urge to run a hand along the sinewy muscles of his back. “Take a shower and we’ll go to dinner.”

“I don’t want to shower.” David turned to face him. “I put on the fucking necklace. Now, I want to do something I want do. The object here is not to get clean.” he grinned at Alan, his face devilish. “I want to fuck.”

“I don’t know if I’m up for it.” Alan yawned and moved across the room. “It’s rather hot in here.”

“So turn on the fucking air.” David went to the central air unit and pushed at the buttons.
“Christ, does this wretched thing even work?”

Alan regarded him. “Take a shower and maybe I’ll compromise.”

“Let’s swim in the pool. It’ll be fun. It’s not being used.”

“It’s so public.” Alan’s deep voice had become a mournful whine, and David rolled his eyes.

“God, I hate when you get like this. Nothing is fun, everything is tedious. You’re such a wanker today. It’s pissing me off.”

Alan lolled his head to one side and sighed. “That’s a typical response. You know how hard it was to get down here to God only knows where? To the ends of the earth or some hole in the wall alleyway? I felt like I was coming to collect a kilo of cocaine and you act like…”

“Fine! I’ll go have a shower.” David threw up his hands and cut across Rickman, mid gripe, effectively silencing him.

In the other room, however, he cursed the entire time, snatching his pants down and kicking his shoes across the room, making as much noise as he could like a petulant child until he was satisfied he’d gotten his point across to the older actor.

He stepped into the shower, making the water as cold as he could stand, forcing his erection to go down because apparently, Rickman wasn’t up for anything even remotely in the way of sex. But that was his way, David mused, putting his head under the spray, Alan was too cool even for his own good. He never did anything he didn’t want to. To his public he was the sweet romantic leading man, sensitive, contemplative, introverted. To David, however, he was almost sadistic in his rigidity, unwavering in his aptitude for making David feel like a complete fucking arse. He turned the faucet until it wouldn’t go any further, making the water ice cold and nearly jumped when he felt warmth against the back of his legs.

“What the fu- ” he jumped and cleared his eyes of water, focusing on the blurry face behind him. “Alan, you scared the living…”

“Quiet.” Alan’s voice was hot cocoa as it cut through the sound of the water. “You talk so bloody much, it’s maddening.”

Reaching through the shower stall, he slid his hands up and down the slender legs, making David’s knees falter. David turned his head and saw that Alan was fully clothed, his sleeves wet to the skin. “Take off your clothes.” he gasped. “Come in with me.”

“In due time.” Alan whispered, hands reaching up to caress the glistening globes of David’s taut ass. He leaned back into the touch as much as humanly possible, needing to feel his hands. He looked down at the front of himself even though he already knew he was hard again. It didn’t take much to get him to this point. Just knowing Alan was in the same vicinity was enough.

Alan’s gentle hands traveled the length of both legs, up and down and then to the front, up thighs and down over knees. When it wasn’t enough, Alan climbed in, still clothed, his body pressing against David’s wet one. David’s head rested back on Alan’s shoulder, his hair soaking through the other man’s shirt.

“Closer…” David murmured, pressing his ass against Rickman’s crotch. “…touch me.”

Alan’s hands slid up and down the wet planes of David’s chest, fingertips brushing against nipples, down along his flat stomach, nails dragging through coarse pubic hair. David gasped and pressed back even more, anticipating what might come next, but Alan’s hands did the unexpected. He reached for David’s slender neck and tugged lightly at the chain. David marveled in the tautness of it against his skin and wondered at Alan’s motives.

“You want it back already?” Thewlis spoke in a playfully light voice under shower spray, but Alan hadn’t heard him. He tangled the necklace in his fingers and pulled, a bit harder now and David knew that would leave a mark; still, he forced himself not to be alarmed – even while his cock stood out like a steel rod.

“You’re enjoying this.” Rickman’s voice was hot syrup poured over his lover and he twisted the metal even more in his fingers, letting it bite into David’s skin, his head tilting back, breath coming in sharp gasp. It took everything inside David not to yell out, but he held his ground. Even when Alan began to reach around with his free hand and caress the soft sac of his testicles, he held his ground and felt himself sinking slowly.

Rickman let up then as he thought he saw, or maybe imagined, that David’s skin took on a slightly blue hue. Best not to actually strangle the poor bloke, lest he find himself with a whole other set of problems. Still, it might be thrilling to witness his near-demise, though he wasn’t such a sadist – not yet anyway.

David’s skin pimpled with glee as Rickman cupped the head of his cock while still holding onto the chain, marveling in the fact that it hadn’t snapped yet. He’d always thought of platinum as rather weak, but he’d been proven wrong before. Then again, David wasn’t actually struggling against it. Fucking lunatic.

“Fuck me, Rickman.” Thewlis gasped, spitting water as he did, pressing his ass against the place where he knew his co-star and lover was finally getting an erection. At his age, it was slow going at first, but once he was full blown, it was no turning back – and fuck, it was worth it. Rickman’s stamina was almost inhuman once he was in the throng of it.

Their bodies meshed well at this point, and they had a quirky sort of dance going, Thewlis wet and slippery in nothing but the dreaded chain, naked as the day he was born otherwise. And Alan, clothes soaked through to the bone – literally! His hands were in awkward positions, one linked through the chain, tugging lightly at David’s neck, desperately wanting to injure him - even benignly. His other hand, holding onto David’s long, rock solid cock as if holding the gear shift of Rima’s BMW.

“Kiss me…” David’s voice was little more than a gurgle, a bark of a cough. He rode Alan’s hand as he waited for a response, while Alan considered his request.

“Kiss you…” he hummed. “… kiss you. I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”

Every time David felt he was getting close to blacking out, Alan gave him a little slack, a hairsbreadth of air. He turned his face and stuck out his tongue, offering it to Alan who hesitated several seconds, weighing his options. Finally, though, he leaned in and wrapped his lips around the glistening pink thing, sucking it into his mouth, causing Thewlis to moan and throb in Alan’s hand. Rickman, in turn, began to pump the organ harder now, base to head, base to head and back again, impossibly slow. The sloppiness of their kiss matched the sloppy fit of their bodies, the wetness and the uneven rhythm until David came, with a vengeance. Hot come erupted from his core and was washed down the drain as he shuddered against his lover, gasping for air as he did.

Rickman let up a bit more then, his thick hair plastered to his head, and David turned and reached for him, face to face. Alan’s hazel eyes were so green in that moment that David took several seconds just to stare into them, chest heaving, before slamming the older man against the tile and crashing his mouth to his. Rickman’s hand involuntarily let go the chain as he held onto the other man.

It took all of three seconds for Thewlis to rip open the fly of his pants, kneel down and take him into his mouth, and Rickman faltered, having to use the towel rack to hold himself upright.

“Christ…” he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out as David devoured him, slurping him in and down his throat, reaching around to cup his ass and tug him forward.
Rickman, for his part, hated to admit defeat, but the truth was, he’d never known anyone better at the art of fellatio than David. The way his tongue circled the shaft, his teeth grazing the head, hand snaking around to grasp and hold his testicles. “…fuck.”

David loved the taste of Rickman’s cock, the clean slick feel of him in his throat, the tautness of his hip as he resisted the urge to thrust, his subdued whimper when David dipped his tongue into the slit of his head.

“Oh God...” he tossed back his head. “… David…”

“You want to fuck me?” David popped Rickman’s cock out of his mouth long enough to ask. “It would fucking make my day, mate.”

Rickman’s eyes were shut. It was almost painful not to be in David’s mouth right now. He couldn’t find words, and David took that to mean he was game for it.

David, wily as an alley cat, reached for the nearby bottle of liquid soap and smeared it in and around his hole, effectively lubricating himself before pushing back and reaming himself on Alan’s outstretched cock. Both men gasped sharply at the contact, at the pure feel of it, the pain and the pleasure. David was just that way, inelegant and crass. He didn’t really care what he had to do to get what he wanted; he only knew that he wouldn’t stop until he got it – and this was what he’d been dreaming about since they made this date. Alan inside him, hot and thick and hard. Neither of them moved for several seconds, too busy finding air, even as the cold water washed over them both, freezing them so much they both were covered in gooseflesh. The place where their bodies joined was hot as magma.

David was the first to thrust, slamming his ass against Alan’s pelvis, hard, pushing him against the tile, then forward, and back until he’d created a rhythm that didn’t take long for Rickman to learn. His large hands were soon on David’s hip, tight, squeezing, nails digging into skin, and they were fucking as if it were the last time – or the first. The desperation was almost dizzying, bone crunching as time stood still even as it passed until they’d been at it for the better half of an hour.

By the time Rickman’s orgasm began tugging at his lower belly, he was nearly seeing stars, and David was almost keeled over with exhaustion. Alan gave another two or three hard thrusts before tossing back his head and emptying himself inside the younger man’s body, his mouth open in silent cry. With whatever strength he had left, he reached around and tugged one last climax from David’s weary cock as he shuddered all over, his full weigh almost completely on Alan. And they collapsed into the tub and let the water wash over them, cleansing them and subduing them.

It was well after midnight as David moved about the room, restless and a bit melancholy.
In the final hour of their meeting, Rickman lay between bed sheets, spent, sleeping and naked – save for the chain round his neck and David, fully clothed, bent to lay a kiss there where metal met skin. In another instant, he was gone.

END