Mmm
The Rusty Anchor was the kind of dive bar in South Philly where the jukebox still took quarters, the beer was served in plastic cups after 1 a.m., and nobody asked questions if two guys disappeared into the back hallway for twenty minutes.
Nico had been watching the new guy all night.
Tall, broad through the shoulders, faded Army tattoo peeking out under the sleeve of a worn black Henley. Dark hair buzzed short on the sides, longer on top, still damp from whatever shower he’d taken before rolling in. He moved like he was used to people getting out of his way—slow, deliberate, zero fucks given. Name was apparently Jace. At least that’s what the bartender yelled when his tab got too high and he had to fish out another twenty.
Nico finished his third Yuengling, crushed the can, and decided fuck it.
Mmm
He slid off his stool, walked straight over, and leaned one elbow on the sticky high-top where Jace was nursing a bourbon.
“You gonna keep staring at my dick print or you gonna say something?” Jace asked without looking up.
Nico laughed low. “Wasn’t staring at your dick print. Was staring at the way you keep flexing your forearm every time you lift the glass. Kinda obvious.”
Jace finally turned his head. Hazel eyes, heavy-lidded, already a little glassy from the whiskey. A slow smirk curled the corner of his mouth.
“You always this forward, South Philly?”
Mmmm
“Only when the guy looks like he could pin me to a wall and make me forget my own name.”
Jace exhaled through his nose, half chuckle, half growl. He drained the rest of his drink in one swallow, set the glass down hard enough to make the ice clink.
“Back booth. Now.”
They didn’t even make it to the hallway.
The last booth in the corner was half-hidden by a busted Bud Light neon sign that flickered red-blue-red-blue. The cracked vinyl seat was disgusting. Neither of them cared.
Mmmm
Jace shoved Nico against the wall first—back-first, shoulders hitting chipped paneling. Mouth crashed down a second later. No preamble, no gentle shit. Teeth clacked, tongues shoved, Jace tasted like bourbon and cigarettes and bad decisions. Nico’s hands were already yanking at Jace’s belt, metal buckle clattering loud enough someone at the bar probably heard it.
“Fucking greedy,” Jace muttered against Nico’s throat, biting down hard enough to leave marks.
“Been hard since you walked in,” Nico shot back, voice wrecked. He finally got Jace’s zipper down, shoved his hand inside, and wrapped fingers around a thick, leaking cock that was already throbbing. No underwear. Of course.
Jace hissed. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”
Mmm
Nico stroked him rough—base to tip, twisting over the head, smearing pre-cum everywhere. Jace retaliated by shoving two fingers into Nico’s mouth without asking. Nico sucked immediately, sloppy, noisy, getting them soaked.
Jace pulled his fingers free with a wet pop, spun Nico around so fast the room tilted, and shoved him chest-first over the table. Empty peanut shells scattered. A half-full beer bottle tipped and rolled.
“Hands on the wall,” Jace ordered.
Nico slapped both palms flat against the wood paneling.
Jace yanked Nico’s jeans and briefs down in one brutal tug—just past his ass, fabric bunched at mid-thigh. Cold air hit skin. Then Jace’s big hand cracked across one cheek—hard.
Mmm
“Fuck!” Nico barked, hips jerking forward.
“Keep it down or I stop.”
Nico bit his own forearm to stay quiet.
Jace spit into his palm, slicked himself up, then pressed the fat head of his cock against Nico’s hole. No fingers first. No slow stretch. Just blunt pressure and then the burn of being forced open.
Nico’s breath punched out in a choked moan. “Shit—fuck—slow down, you fuckin’ animal—”
Mmmm
“You said pin you to a wall,” Jace growled, sinking in another thick inch. “This is what that feels like.”
He didn’t wait for permission after that.
One long, punishing thrust and he bottomed out, balls slapping against Nico’s ass. Nico’s knees almost buckled. Jace wrapped one arm around Nico’s chest, the other hand clamping over his mouth.
“Shut the fuck up and take it.”
Then he started fucking him like he was mad at him.
Mmm
Deep, mean strokes—pulling almost all the way out, then slamming back in so hard the table scraped an inch across the floor. Nico’s cock bounced untouched against his stomach, leaking steadily onto the already filthy booth seat. Every time Jace hit that spot inside him Nico made a broken, muffled sound against Jace’s palm.
Jace’s free hand slid down, wrapped around Nico’s dick, and jerked him rough in time with the thrusts.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” Jace panted against his ear. “Gonna ruin this hole for anybody else tonight.”
Nico tried to answer but all that came out was a garbled whine.
Jace sped up—short, brutal punches right against Nico’s prostate. The wet slap of skin on skin was obscene, louder than the jukebox now. Someone at the bar definitely knew what was happening back here. Neither of them gave a shit.
Mmm
“Gonna come,” Nico gasped when Jace finally took his hand off his mouth. “Fuck—Jace—gonna fuckin’ come—”
“Do it,” Jace snarled. “Come all over this nasty-ass table. Let everybody know what a slut you are.”
Nico’s whole body locked up. Cock pulsing in Jace’s fist, shooting thick ropes across the tabletop, some hitting the wall, some dripping down onto cracked vinyl. His hole clenched hard around Jace’s dick and that was it.
Jace slammed in one last time, buried deep, and came with a low, guttural “fuck—” hips jerking erratically as he unloaded inside Nico. Pulse after pulse. Hot. Messy. So much it started leaking out around Jace’s cock before he even pulled out.
Mmm
They stayed locked together for maybe ten seconds—both breathing like they’d run ten blocks. Jace finally eased out slow. A thick trickle of cum followed, sliding down Nico’s inner thigh.
Jace turned him around, kissed him filthy and slow this time—less teeth, more tongue. Nico’s legs were shaking.
“You good?” Jace muttered against his lips.
Nico laughed, hoarse. “I’m fuckin’ great. You always this charming on a first date?”
Jace smirked, tucked himself back into his jeans, then reached down and yanked Nico’s briefs and jeans back up—leaving everything sticky and wrecked underneath.
“Buy me another bourbon and maybe I’ll let you find out what round two looks like.”
Mmm
Nico wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like an idiot.
“Deal.”
They walked back to the bar together—hair fucked up, clothes wrinkled, smelling like sex and cheap beer.
The bartender didn’t even blink when Jace ordered two more drinks.
Just another Saturday night at The Rusty Anchor.
(End)
Mmm
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