Kourt Crowe Snippet #2
Title: Coming Down Hard
Author: Hiper Bunny
Rating: NC-17 for M/M sex, with a side of violence (not concurrent)
Archive: KCFC
Feedback: OhPleasepleaseplease? I'm still not sure about this one.
On-list, please.
Disclaimer: Again, squint and it looks like Original Fic. I'm still wearing
my glasses. All hail George. The song "Just a Job to Do" is owned by
Genesis, who neither gave me permission nor have any idea what they inspired
in my little rodent brain. This song is available through Amazon.com and
other internet resources ::cough::napster::cough::
Thanks:
To Fox, who is always awake when my muses jump me.
To Layna, who makes me laugh and laugh and laugh.
To Joan, who sent Kourt his chocolate. Yum!
Notes:
Several influences collided in my brain today. The question about whether
or not Kato had to be in peril for him to be on bottom and in control. This
song, which just SCREAMED 'Kourt' to me. Fruit bats. A brief but powerful
curiosity about what would happen if Kourt slipped up on a job. The desire
to actually see him KILL someone. Joan's chocolate. Bonobos. The
resulting mayhem is submitted for your approval.
It's no use saying that it's alright, it's alright.
But where were you after midnight, midnight.
Heard a Bang, Bang, Bang; Down they go
It's just a job you do
Cos the harder they run, and the harder they fall.
I'm coming down hard on you.
"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Kato asked, making a game attempt to
take Kourt's bag from his hand.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't..." Kourt rubbed his eyes and yawned. "I'm just
tired."
"I don't get it. If you're well and I'm well, why are we on sick
leave? And HERE of all places." Kato shrugged one shoulder towards the
lovely coastal village of Tre Genatti. "We could have just slouched around
the Temple, you know."
*Yeah, right. As if anything's ever that simple,* Kourt mentally groused,
but made no reply.
"You're sure you're okay?" Kato asked yet again.
"The healers and med techs think I'm stressing my system. They can't quite
wrap their tiny minds around the idea that my system can simply take more
for longer than virtually any other system in the known galaxy," Kourt lied
with smooth ease, just to stop the questions. "They're calling it sick
leave so we could get into this sector without a political brouhaha, but
technically we're working. I have a package to deliver later tonight, then
we're on our own until we feel like going back."
"Hmm," Kato frowned.
"Look, why is that so bad? We've been on nonstop rotation for almost a
year. Take what you can get, Vanni!" Kourt shrugged his bag higher on his
shoulder.
"I'm just worried about you, Kourt. You've never been on sick leave before,
and you're not acting like you are now."
"Oh? Then what am I acting like?"
"Like you've got a name and a number."
"Then wouldn't it be prudent to shut the fuck up until we're in a secured
location?" Kourt smiled, but with a razor's edge.
"Oh," Kato blushed. "Shit, I'm sorry. I should have known."
"No rest for the wicked, luv."
*****************
Now no-one saw what you looked like, what you looked like
Like a stranger you came out of the night, out of the night
Cos someone put the word on you, and I hope my aim is true.
When Kato asked again what was going on, Kourt felt that his gentle rebuff
was more than justified. Though Kato did Shadow work and had studied with
Sarafel, the truth was he wasn't really in the Group. Not in the sense that
Kourt had come to value. He'd been raised differently, trained to expect
something different of his life as a Jedi. Only the tragedy of his first
Padawan's death had removed him from that course. There were simply some
things he was better off left outside of. Tonight's work was one of those
things.
When Kourt began dressing in his covert blacks, Kato stopped worrying. It
wasn't quite possible to worry about Kourt Crowe when he was working.
Something about his attitude changed. He stopped being a man and became
something like a force of nature. This night was the last in someone's life
and Kourt was the one who would make that so. There was nothing that could
change that now.
Kourt turned his thoughts from his partner and focused on his preparations.
Most of his 'associates' in this area of work would have been appalled to
see what he chose to work in. They mostly dressed in natural fibers, or
very clingy, stretchy material that would move with them, making them a
living shadow on some dark street. Kourt was far beyond caring about such
aesthetics. Black leather pants, a thin, grey shirt with bloused sleeves
(good for secreting various tools), bare hands and bare feet were his own
personal uniform. After all, he was under no requirement to possess finger
prints nor was he worried about shedding trace DNA. Those rules, like so
many rules, simply didn't apply to him. He took the time to braid his hair,
pin it to the base of his skull and cover all with a black kerchief. Any
other preparation was, in his experience, overkill. His matched stilettos
were sheathed and in one sleeve. A tiny poisoned dart and blowgun was up
the other. It was really more equipment than he would need this night.
The clock struck half past eleven. Kourt kissed Kato on the cheek, saying
"I won't be gone too long."
*******************
Cos I got a name, and I got a number, I gotta line on you
I got a name, and I got a number, I'm coming after you
Kourt circled the three-story house in which his target lay sleeping. He
had counted two guards, three methods of entry and one unidentified person
on the premises. Kourt had the sinking feeling that the extra person was
going to be an issue. Hoping for the best but planning for the worst, he
dashed across the lawn and leapt for the bottom branch of a tree that was
near the wall he needed to negotiate. A quick tuck up and he clung, upside
down, to said branch just as a motion-sensitive light flicked on. *SHIT!*
he mentally swore, then made his swift and silent way higher up into the
tree. When he was high enough to have a vantage point, he hugged the tree's
trunk and waited for the light to time out.
From his position in the upper reaches of his tree, Kourt observed something
he hadn't seen from the ground. A glow of light haloed a small veranda on
the upper floor, as if the only illumination was chiplights or lamps of some
sort. The motion sensors clicked off and Kourt made his move for the eaves
of the second story. A quick shinny up a drainpipe, of all things, and he
was moving spider-silent across the roof towards the glow.
When finally he had arranged himself upon the veranda's roof he mentally
reviewed his target's protocol. No known lovers, no guests expected, no
enemies expected, basically no problems expected and yet Kourt could hear
two voices beneath him, one male and one female. The female would be Serata
Vehala, his target of the night. But who under the skies was this man?
Serata was speaking. "But really, Mierco, how can you be sure someone will
be here? I've my guards, my dogs, my serpents... and not a threat in
sight. Whoever their informant was must have done a rather poor job."
*Heh,* Kourt mentally chuckled. Then he sobered. *Mierco? Wasn't he the
one...*
"Not so unreliable as you might think, my love. For I was the informant."
*I've been set up,* Kourt's breath froze in his chest.
"And as unreliable as their employee might have been, I assure you that I am
impeccable in my reliability."
Kourt's fingernails dug into the shingles as he struggled to release his
anger. Mierco. That triple-crossing son of a bitch. The sounds of a
struggle drifted up and Kourt wiggled forward for a survey, hoping neither
of the combatants would be paying attention to the overhang which he
overhung.
Mierco was on the floor, his throat under Serata's foot. She was making no
move to ease his death, and it was quite clear that he was no longer in any
shape to protect himself. One arm flopped uselessly; the other was pinned
to the floor by a wicked-looking blade that was thrust through his forearm
and into the floorboards. Kourt flicked his right hand down, then forward,
his stiletto slotting into Mierco's eye faster than he could consider what
he was doing.
Serata spun in surprise, drew a breath to scream for help half a second
before Kourt's blade in her throat removed that possibility forever. She
managed to pull the blade free before the blood loss and pain weakened her.
A stumbling step felled her to lay across Mierco's chest in a gruesome
parody of an embrace. Kourt slipped down onto the veranda, avoided the
pools of blood to retrieve his blades, and made good his escape.
He was halfway down the block and out of breath before he found a convenient
place to retch.
*************************
Don't keep saying that it's alright, it's alright,
It seems you went just a little too far this time
Heard a Bang Bang Bang, and down you go,
It's just a job I do,
Cos the harder you run the harder you fall,
I'm coming down hard on you, hard on you - I hope my aim is true.
Kato opened his eyes, blinking at the sudden brightness. Kourt was sitting
at the small table by the window, methodically cleaning his knives. He
paused, picking something up from a small pile at his elbow, slipped it
between his lips, and returned to his work. Kato waited until both blades
were cared for, then sat up. "So... how did it go?"
"Bad," Kourt smiled, pain radiating in his eyes. "I was wide awake."
"Oh, love," Kato pulled the sheets with him as he came to join his lover at
the table. He glanced down at whatever it was that Kourt had been eating.
Chocolate buttons. Not a good sign. "Can I help?"
"Don't touch me." Kourt flinched away from Kato's hand as it came up to
touch his cheek. "I'm..."
"No, you're not," Kato seized Kourt's jaw and pulled up. "Whatever you're
thinking about yourself, you're not it. I know what you just went out and
did, and I still love you, Kourt Crowe. So don't insult me by saying I
can't pick a good person to love."
Kourt gripped Kato's wrist and forced his hand away. "What I am is
dirty. I've got blood on my hands, literally, and I've been running all
night. I don't want you to touch me, if that's fucking all right with
you!"
Kato drew a deep breath, and let it go. "Fine. I won't. But I'm not
leaving you alone, either."
Kourt closed his eyes, visibly wilting under Kato's persistent attention.
"Do whatever you want, just don't touch me."
Kato nodded once, then headed towards the bathroom.
*************************
I got a name, and I got a number, I got a line on you
I got a name, and I got a number, and I'm coming after you
Kato tested the water, turned the hot up a bit, then sat back to wait for
the tub to fill. Kourt Crowe was, perhaps, the highest-maintenance lover
Kato had ever been with. These little fits of temper that no one else ever
saw were only the tip of the iceberg, really. Kato was more than prepared
to indulge these tantrums from time to time. Skies knew Kourt had to vent
somehow. Kato had seen the work, or rather, the effects of Kourt's work,
and was of the opinion that the Order demanded too much out of this one
man. Kourt moved between worlds, slipping from the life of a Jedi to the
role of a hitman and back with predictable regularity. The stresses of such
constant oscillations were bound to show eventually. That Kato was the
person Kourt chose as his pressure valve spoke volumes to the younger Jedi
of the trust Kourt felt for him.
"Come on in," Kato called, turning the water off. Kourt appeared in the
doorway, already naked, and got into the tub without preamble. Kato made no
comment, but took up a sponge and soaped it, then placed it within easy
reach for Kourt.
Kourt had said he was 'wide awake' for this particular job, a phrase that
held its own special horror for them both. The Kourt that took Kato to
nightclubs and concerts, who led them through diplomatic missions, who spent
hours researching obscure and ancient languages, was not the same person who
could casually plunge a blade into whoever needed the plunging. Kourt had
explained all this at one time, the mental tricks Bale had taught him so
that he could be a stone-cold killer on the one hand and a productive member
of the Order on the other. The reflexes, the techniques, those were all
physical training and had nothing to do with Kourt's mindset. It would seem
that Kourt had been in a position where his mental footing had been just
'off' enough to leave him vulnerable to the emotional backlash of his own
actions.
Kourt began to wash, firmly refusing to even look at Kato. Good. As long
as he wasn't growling, Kato had a chance of helping him. After a moment's
thought, Kato went to retrieve Kourt's chocolate buttons. These also went
onto the edge of the tub. Kourt washed himself all over, mechanically,
foregoing the rather sensual wallow he usually indulged in when possible.
Kato simply held his peace, waiting for an opening.
It finally came in the form of Kourt's back. "Do you want me to...?" he
asked as gently as he could.
"Just don't..."
"I know."
Kato knelt by the bath, scrubbing efficiently, doing nothing with his hands
that could be construed as seductive. However, he did lean just a little
closer than strictly necessary, allowing his breath to tickle Kourt at just
one particular spot on his neck. He felt the elder Jedi shiver once and
knew he was making headway.
Kato waited while Kourt rinsed himself all over, then fetched a large,
fluffy towel for his lover. Kourt stepped out of the bath, drying himself
with rough strokes, as if still trying to scrub the memory of his actions
from his very skin. The more he dried, the more agitated he became until
Kato finally grabbed the end of the towel and jerked it out of his grip.
Kourt frowned at him, then his expression softened. For a long moment Kourt
Crowe looked like nothing so much as a lost child with no explanation for
the pain and confusion that threatened to tear him apart.
Kourt wandered out of the bathroom and Kato followed watchfully. Kourt made
a slow circuit of the room, then came to a stop near the foot of the bed.
Kato decided this was the moment to make his move. He lay down on the bed
and tucked his hands under his pillow. With slow, exaggerated movements he
stretched from head to toe, letting his legs fall wide apart in a display of
pure sexuality. "Kourt?"
Kourt's gaze wandered over Kato's body, a hunger shining there and burning
away much of the confusion and loss. "Yes?"
"Won't you please come and pleasure me?"
**********************
Keep running, Keep running; city to city
Even if you're innocent,
You can cause too much embarrassment
And though your heart is aching,
And you know there's no mistaking.
Cos you feel your life line breaking (keep running, keep running)
You can feel your hands are shaking (keep running, keep running)
And no-one answers the telephone
You can never never ever go home alone
And though your heart is aching
And you know there's no mistaking.
The footsteps close behind.
"Kato, please..." Kourt's voice was halfway between growling and pleading.
"I know. I won't move my hands from where they are if you'll... just..."
Kato closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I need your mouth on mine, I
want to feel you kiss my throat, my chest..."
The warm weight of Kourt's body pressed Kato to the bed as Kourt ravished
his mouth in a hot, needy kiss. Kourt's tongue thrust hard into Kato's
welcoming embrace, plundering with savage desire. Kato arched up into it,
moaning his pleasure and approval. Strong hands dragged across Kato's ribs,
down his belly and along his hips, one pulling him closer, the other
stroking roughly over his lengthening cock.
Kourt's mouth began a long path of sucking, biting kisses along Kato's
throat and it was all the younger man could do to get enough air into his
lungs. When Kourt's mouth settled onto his left nipple, Kato twisted under
the powerful suction and sharp bites that claimed and marked the sensitive
nub. Lest Kourt mistake his reaction as an attempt to escape, Kato
screamed "Yes! Just like that, more, oh skies, more."
Kourt transferred his attentions to the other nipple and was, if anything,
less gentle and more demanding. Kato gripped the pillows in tight fistfuls,
arching until his shoulders were completely off the bed. His neck protested
at the strain, but his lust overrode all such demands. When Kourt reduced
his attentions to long, wet lapping, Kato let his back relax back onto the
mattress. "Suck me, Kourt. I want your mouth on me, I want to be down your
throat NOW."
Kourt's response was gratifyingly swift. He slithered down Kato's body,
leaving pale pink bite marks as he went. He dropped a single kiss onto the
head of Kato's penis, then swallowed it down to where it was wanted.
Kato bucked up into that wet, welcoming heat, depending on his partner to
make his body ready for the use it was being put to. Kourt was more than
ready, thrusting his mouth down over Kato with equal enthusiasm. Low growls
and purrs tore themselves from Kato's throat, spurring his lover on with
their inherent encouragement. When Kourt would have gentled his pleasuring,
Kato simply pushed in deeper, grinding his shaft against Kourt's
constantly-moving tongue. Only when he was ready to relinquish the pleasure
of Kourt's mouth did Kato allow Kourt to slowly release him.
"There's lube on the table, Kourt. Fuck me."
Kourt's eyes snapped up, fixing Kato with an incredulous look.
"Is that a problem, love?" Kato inquired in a gentler tone.
"No," Kourt rasped, then swallowed convulsively. "No problem... I don't
want to hurt you, though..."
Kato snorted at that. "Then don't. I haven't spent the last year in your
bed without learning something about muscle control."
Kourt grinned at that and grabbed the lube. Their preparations were
perfunctory, only as much as was absolutely necessary. Kato lifted one knee
to his chest and draped his other leg over Kourt's shoulder, opening himself
in blatant demand. To his eternal frustration, Kourt chose this moment to
pause.
"I love you, you know," Kourt mentioned.
Kato gritted his teeth and replied, "I know. I love you, too."
"I am so happy to be with someone I can trust, someone I can count on.
Someone I can enjoy any time I want."
"Now is good."
Kourt took the hint and pushed forward, burying himself deeply into Kato's
body. Kato sucked in a hissing breath, released the reflexive tension in
his muscles and gripped the pillows more firmly. "Yeah. Now is really
good," he breathed, by way of encouragement.
Kourt leaned forward, shifting their weight just so, then began claiming in
earnest, biting and sucking any part of Kato he could get at. "Love you,"
he growled between kisses, thrusting in time to his words until they were a
litany. "Loveyouloveyouloveyouloveyou."
"Yeah, oh, yeah, love you," Kato growled right back, undulating his hips
until he found just the right angle for Kourt's unreserved fucking. "YES!
There, oh, fuck, Kourt! Touch me, there, deep, yeahyeah YES!"
Kourt's hand closed over Kato's cock again, stroking hard and powerfully, as
if he could drag pleasure out of his lover's body by sheer force of will.
Perspiration slicked his skin, glittering and slipping, drops raining down
as if his whole body were weeping for sheer joy. His chant shifted from
declaration to a low, stuttering moan and his hips jerked, breaking his
rhythm as he spilled into his lover's body. A moment later and Kato's
orgasm spilled over his fingers as hoarse screams filled the air around
them.
Slowly, gently, they disentangled themselves and re-arranged their limbs
into a more comfortable pose. Kato blinked rapidly, trying to make his eyes
focus. "Love, may I hold you?"
"Oh, yes, please," Kourt whispered, nuzzling into Kato's chest.
*****************
Now don't pretend that you sleep at night, but sleep tight
And can't you feel that the time is right, it's alright.
Heard a Bang Bang Bang, and down you go
Oh no-one really cares
Cos the harder you run, and the harder you fall.
I'm coming down hard on you, hard on you - I'm hoping that my aim is true.
The sky was lightening to gray before Kourt finally fell asleep. He had
spent the evening explaining his mission to Kato, describing what he had
seen, heard, suspected and done. When at last he had been able to relax and
rest, Kato had gotten out his own lightslate and begun to write the mission
report. If nothing else, it would spare Kourt the pain of reliving those
memories yet again.
The words were beginning to blur on the screen when Kato finally stood to
stretch. He went to the window and watched the sky come into its early
pinks and yellows. The salty breeze was refreshing. *Maybe later we can go
for a swim,* Kato mused. For all that their excuse of medical R&R had been
a ruse, he had come to the decision that Kourt did, in fact, need rest.
Apparently, it would be up to Kato to see that he got it.
No one else was going to look after Kourt, that much was obvious.
Although Kourt was correct in saying that he could stand more, do more, heal
back from more than any other Jedi in the Order, he wasn't invincible. And
no matter what his lifespan was projected at, he wasn't immortal. Kourt
spent his life walking the damnedest razor's edge Kato had ever seen, and a
single misstep would bring pain that he couldn't just bounce back from on
his own. *The Council was right. He did need a partner. I'm glad I was
here for him. Look what being alone has done to Bale. And Sarafel's no
paragon of sanity.*
The fact that those two had raised Kourt, more or less, had only left the
Jedi/Assassin with a skewed sense of perspective. Their whole lives were
wrapped up in missions and odd, barely-hinted-at goals and self-neglect on a
monumental scale. There was no way Kato would let Kourt do the same to
himself.
Kato tucked himself into bed, curling around Kourt in a now-familiar
embrace. This man, this strong and valuable life, was now very firmly and
irrevocably Kato's personal project. The Order might dictate his missions,
but Kourt Crowe was his new career.
Kourt might have a tough job, but at least now he wouldn't need to do it
alone. "I love you, Kourt Crowe. You're never gonna forget that, if I have
to spend the rest of my life making it so."
I got a name, and I got a number, I got a line on you
I got a name, and I got a number, I'm coming after you
I got a name, and I got a number, I got a line on you
I got a name, and I got a number, I got a job to do
-end-
Comments? Questions? You know where to send 'em!
KCFC@onelist.com
Back to KCFC
Home