Hooligans2/2

[owlgrey.livejournal.com]

CHAPTER/WORK IN PROGRESS/COMPLETE: Complete
AUTHOR: owlgrey
PAIRING: Billy/Elijah
RATING: NC17
SUMMARY: Billy teaches Elijah how to be a real soccer hooligan.
CONTENT/WARNING: Hooligan sex! Sorry to Dom fans, he isn’t really such a bad guy!!!
SPOILERS: None
DISCLAIMER: This story is 100% fiction. These events never happened, except for Billy giving Elijah some soccer hooligan pointers. Despite extensive research I could not ascertain Billy’s soccer team, so allocated him Rangers because blue is his favourite colour! Apologies if I got it wrong.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Thanks to widdershin who actually encouraged me to write Hobbit sex!!! Thanks also Widders for the soccer reference assistance. I know…Shearer rules! For non-Australians ‘Vegemite’ is a yeast based sandwich spread very popular in Australia. It is an acquired taste.



Chapter 2

“I think we should park near the ground, but not at it. It’s a fucker to get out of there at finishing time,” planned Billy. “I know a little parking spot near the grounds that no one uses. So we won’t be caught up in the traffic when the game finishes.”

“You approach everything like a Hobbit don’t you?” smiled Elijah, “Planning your little heart out. You’re the most fucking Hobbityist of Hobbits. Except for Sean. Sean is so like a Hobbit it’s fucking weird. PJ cast you lot so fucking well.”

“Hey, you’re a Hobbit as well,” Billy pointed out, “Oh, Lij, turn left at the next street, and follow along for about ten minutes until the crossroad. The parking lot’s on the corner. Anyway, I recall someone was so desperate to be a Hobbit he rented a costume and videoed himself Hobbiting about in a wood. Elwood, the Once and Future Hobbit!”

“Fuck off!” Elijah took his hand off the wheel to punch Billy, causing the car to veer slightly.” It was to get a part, that’s all. You should have seen my audition for ‘Flipper’. Now that one was fucking embarrassing.”

Billy laughed. He loved being with Elijah. Elijah called a spade a spade, and wasn’t afraid to be just Elijah. He had been in the business for so long, but gave Billy hope that you could remain in acting and not become an up yourself wanker. Right on cue Elijah squirmed in his seat, rose up and dragged his jeans out of his crotch, and exclaimed, “The fucking upholstery on this thing goes right up your ass. There’s better things to go up your ass than cracked leather…or am I missing out on some new fetish thing?”

The ten minute trip to the ground was taken up by Elijah pondering on whether ‘cracked leather’ was a great name for a band, an album, a film, or a bondage club. He decided on all four, producing a self-titled concept album, a documentary, and spin-off sex toys. When they arrived at the parking lot, Elijah had decided he would be the manager of the group, and call himself ‘P. Diddy Elwood’. Billy hadn’t been able to get a word in, and was pleased the arrival at their destination would herald a finish to Elijah penning the lyrics to ‘Cracked Leather’s’ first single. ‘Split my ass with your leather baby’ did not sound like a good start to a song…well one that Billy would like to hear anyway; particularly sung by Elijah at full volume yelling over his interminably loud stereo. Ironically that was the one thing in the ‘green beauty’ that worked perfectly.

“The ground is so close to here,” Billy said. “Only a two minute walk. I’ve no idea why no one else parks here, but they never do.”

“Probably because when you come out of the ground at night there’s a fucking stalker or serial killer, or axe murderer, or all fucking three just sitting waiting to get you as easy take-away.” whined Elijah. “Fuck Billy, no one would park here because it’s a fucking black hole!”

“Ya wuss!” laughed Billy. “I park here all the time. And walk back on my own. Never had a spot of bother. It’s more dangerous walking back to the parking at the grounds. When the Celtics and Rangers boys meet head on it’s not a pretty sight. We’re actually much safer here Lij. Trust my local knowledge.”

“Looks like Serial Killer Central to me, but you know best,” said Elijah.

“Billy does know best.” Billy ruffled Elijah’s hair. He murmured, just so that Elijah could hear, “Chucky’s going to bring you nice pretty white flesh tonight boys.”

Elijah was about to reply with an excessively crude comment about his ‘nice pretty white flesh’ when they turned the corner and arrived at the ground. He couldn’t help but draw his breath at the sight. There, in front of him, was the rabble of men he had heard yelling all the way from the car park. Elijah hadn’t been able to make out what they were saying then, and even now that he was close to them he still couldn’t make it out. All he could distinguish was “Fuck”, “Cunt”, “Prick” and a combination of all three. Elijah was no stranger to bad language, but the way these men used the words was powerful and full of menace. These men were full of menace.

Billy bowled straight up to the men, stood amongst them, looked up and said “How ya doin’ guys?” Their reply was a smile, a firm pat on the back, and a friendly combination of their previous expletives.

“So, do ya reckon those fuckin’ cunt Celtics have a chance today Billy Boy?” asked one of them, a large man who Elijah thought must have been broader than his ‘green beauty’.

“No way,” laughed Billy. “No fuckin’ way. We’ll beat their arses, I’m bettin’ we win 4 nil. They’re not in good form at the moment…not that they have a form worth speaking of,” he added.

Elijah felt very small amongst these men. He often felt very small, but on this occasion he felt like a Hobbit standing amidst some very tall and large men. He just didn’t belong amongst them. Billy, on the other hand, although he was small too, appeared to grow taller and fit in. Elijah put it down to his easy banter with the men. Billy seemed to know them all!

When they got into the ground Billy secured them a place, and began to explain the rules. Despite his ‘cover’ that he was ‘rooting’ for Celtic, Elijah realised how little he really knew about the game. He didn’t want to look foolish and ask too many questions, but one just begged to be answered.

“So Billy, why is it such an exciting game if the teams only score like maybe one goal or something in a game? I went to one match in London and they drew one all. Then on the sports report that night they said it was such an exciting game. That’s not fucking exciting, each team only scoring one goal!!”

“Such a little boy! All you think about is scoring!” joked Billy. “It’s the quality of the game Elijah, not the number of goals you get. It’s so hard to get a goal, that when you do score it’s such an amazing thing.” He interrupted himself, “Aah, right, they’re about to start!”

A massive roar rose from the crowd as the two teams ran onto the pitch. Billy explained to Elijah how they were choosing which end their goalies would be, and then the game started. According to Billy it was a good weekend to be coming. The last match between the two teams had been close, with Rangers just winning on a penalty (“Well deserved I might add” according to Billy). There had been a lot of talk about whether the penalty had been fairly awarded. Billy’s claim was that a Celtic player had kicked a Rangers player purposely, causing him to be replaced at a crucial moment, and Billy added as an afterthought; end up in hospital with ten stitches.

“It’s going to be full on today,” said Billy. “The Celtic wankers think they were hard done by last time. There’s a lot of bad blood in the air today.”

Right on cue a Celtic and Rangers player collided head on. The Celtic player lay on the ground holding his head, while the Rangers player held his hands up in disbelief. The referee held up a yellow card, and then appointed Celtic a free kick. The Celtic player made a miraculous recovery, and jumped up to take the kick. He was dangerously near the other team’s goal mouth, and to the Ranger fans’ dismay the ball found its mark.

The Rangers fans exploded. A steady stream of those expletives that greeted Billy were forthcoming, this time not friendly. The lineage of the referee was questioned, that Elijah could make out from the yells, and the Celtic player who had scored the goal was warned he was in danger of losing several essential parts of his anatomy. Beer cans were thrown, one hitting Billy in the back of the head. He hardly seemed to notice; such was his anger at the decision.

Suddenly all Elijah could see out of the corner of his eye was red. A burning sensation spread down his arm. Everything seemed to be a blur when Billy yelled:
“Fuck Lij, you’re on fire!”

“Fuck! What was that?” screamed Elijah, his eyes wider than…Elijah eyes.

“Lit toilet roll probably,” said Billy. “You ok? Do you want to go home?”

“No fuckin’ way!” yelled Elijah. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“But you just got set on fire Lij, do you think you should see a doctor, or at least put some burn cream on?” persisted Billy.

“Stop fuckin’ sounding like my mom Billy. I’m fine. I am having way too much fun to leave this game! I got set on fire, how fuckin’ awesome is that!” Elijah was practically jumping up and down on the spot with enthusiasm. “All those games I went to before…you’re right Billy, pussy matches. I had no fuckin’ idea! They’d stick me in a VIP box with minders, and little tiny fuckin’ sandwiches and shit. I couldn’t even talk to the supporters without at least two fuckin’ body guards making sure they didn’t get too close.” Elijah stopped to take a breath and rested his arm on Billy, something he always did at the height of enthusiasm. “This is real Bill, this is so fuckin’ real. This is awesome!”

Billy knew that three ‘awesome’s in the space of a minute meant Elijah was having a good time indeed. The game was certainly a good one as predicted. There were so many false hopes for goals, and the threat of a win for Celtic was driving the Rangers fans mad. Time passed without cognitive thought for the two; caught up in the adrenalin rush not only of the game, but the men around them.

It was close to game end. Rangers had scored a goal, and the match was looking to be an even one all draw. A Celtic player was running the ball down towards their goal, but experience told Billy he probably wouldn’t make it. Elijah was shaking Billy’s arm, pulling on his shirt and saying “Look! Billy look! He’s getting closer to the goal!”

“He’ll not make it Lij,” said Billy, “Game’s over I reckon.”

Unperturbed by Billy’s doubts, Elijah was becoming more and more excited. His grip on Billy’s arm was tightening, and suddenly he yelled, “Go Celtic! Go!”

The words had barely left Elijah’s mouth when he felt a heavy rasp of nails rip up along his belly, and he found himself hanging in the air. His face was level with that of an angry-faced man whose breath was hot on Elijah’s lips. He smelt of whisky. Not the mellow smell when he managed to get close to Billy, but a sour, rancid smell which left Elijah wanting to move his head away. If he could. But Elijah was held in a vice like grip. He could hardly breathe. The man had such a tight hold of him his knuckles were pressing into Elijah’s throat, cutting off his air supply, let alone allowing him to get away from his foul breath.

“What did you say ya fuckin’ wee turd?” he yelled into Elijah’s face, “Fuckin’ Celtic fan. I’ll ram your fuckin’ balls so far up your sad wee arse…”

“Let go Jock. He’s confused. He’s a fuckin’ Yank poor thing.” Billy’s hand was on the large man’s arm, a large smile on is face.

Elijah was about to claim that he was in no way confused, he understood the game perfectly now, and he was not a ‘fuckin’ Yank’ thankyou very much. But as the man’s grip loosened and he fell to the ground unceremoniously, he realised that Billy was not being abusive, but saving his life. Or at least his balls.

The large man patted him on the head, saying “Watch yourself son, you’re lucky you’re with Boydo. I was about to rearrange your wedding tackle for you.”
His added words about where Elijah’s ‘wedding tackle’ was destined were blocked out by the blast of the final siren.
“Aagh fuck!” he yelled, “another fuckin’ draw. At least those Celtic fuckers didn’t score that goal hey laddie?” He thumped Elijah on the back with such force that the breath that he had just regained was lost again for a few minutes.

“His name is really Jock?” asked Elijah incredulously as they began their walk back to the car park. “You’re kidding me?”

Billy nodded, saying, “I wouldn’t question him Elijah. Not a thing. Just call him Jock and agree with everything he says. I’m sorry I called you a ‘fuckin’ Yank’ but it was that or a lifetime of enforced celibacy as a eunuch.”

“No offence taken,” laughed Elijah. He had his breath back, and his eyes were bright with excitement. “Thankyou so much for that Billy. That was the most amazing fucking experience of my life!”

“What?’ exclaimed Billy, “Nearly having your knackers taken by Jock? I don’t call that fun. He doesn’t blow on them gently and tell you you’re his sweet little bitch Lij!”

“No, that was so amazing!” yelled Elijah, gripping Billy’s arm. “That beats Orli’s skydiving, sailboarding, Para diving, and helicopter rolls all put together! Man Billy! Soccer matches are the new extreme sport!!!”

Elijah’s enthusiasm transferred to Billy, dissipating his concern for his welfare, and reigniting his own excitement for the game.

“It is a cool game isn’t it?” smiled Billy, wrapping his arm around Elijah. “You can see how these guys get so caught up in the whole thing.” His words were reiterated by the yells of fellow supporters leaving the game. “They’ll be off to the pub, then by the time they get home they’ll be so pumped they’ll shag their wives silly. A lot of babies are born nine months away from the soccer season!”

Elijah giggled. “I understand now how a one all draw is exciting. Soccer stiffies! Man! I am pumped Billy!”

Neither of the two thought about where they were walking, so intent and increasingly animated was their discussion about the game. By the time they got back to the car Elijah had forgotten any thought of danger in the car park. His mind was racing, and his cock was hard.

“Fuck Billy! I know why those guys will be going home and shagging their wives senseless.” Elijah could stand it no longer. He grabbed Billy’s face, drew it level with his own, and plunged his tongue into Billy’s mouth with such force that he gagged. Billy tried to move back, but Elijah’s mouth was so firmly planted on his own, and his hands were gripping his head so hard, that he was in real danger of doing himself an injury. Elijah ground his groin into Billy’s, adding to Billy’s discomfort with the situation. He wasn’t sure he wanted this, but the sensation of Elijah’s erection pushing against him started to persuade him. Billy had always envied the guys going home to fuck their wives to relieve the tension. He had had to rely on a dirty phone call to Dom, and the dexterity of his own right hand. Sadly, nowadays the latter was his only option.

Finally, to Billy’s relief, Elijah broke away. But it was only to enable himself to plead, “Fuck me Billy. I need to fuck. Just like those guys I need to fuck…now.”

“We’re in a car park,” replied Billy, ever the voice of reason.

“You said no one ever comes here,” Elijah countered, his hands moving persuasively down to the button of Billy’s jeans.

“We don’t have…” started Billy to present what he thought was this time an insurmountable problem.

“Condoms and lube?” smiled Elijah. He slid Billy along the car by the waistband, reaching one hand into the glove box while keeping hold of his jeans with the other.

“Prepared little Hobbit,” smiled Billy, any hope of resistance vanishing as Elijah turned and slid down the zipper of his jeans, reaching his hand into Billy’s boxers to wrap around his cock. He moved his hand up and down its length tantalisingly a few times, just to get Billy fully hard, and rolled the condom on for him as a final gesture.

Billy needed no more invitation. While Elijah fumbled desperately with his own jeans, he dispensed some lube onto his hand, and ran it up and down his cock. The knowledge that his own hand would not be the only way of getting any relief tonight inflamed him, and he decided to throw caution to the wind. He opened the door of the ‘green beauty’, trying not to make it creak too loudly, contemplating that a quick fuck in the car park was going to be a feat of yoga-like proportions on that back seat.

Elijah, now sporting just a t-shirt, grabbed Billy’s hand, pushing it to close the door with a slam.

“I want it against her,” he smiled wickedly. His hand still on Billy’s hand, he guided it down to Billy’s cock, let go, then braced himself against the car.

Billy’s moment of caution flying in the wind plummeted to earth.

“We can’t Lij, not here. Not out in the open. Someone might come along.”

Elijah simply reached around, felt for Billy’s hand that was still gripping his cock, and urged it towards him.

“I want you to fuck me like the game Billy. Wild and dangerous. Like a hooligan. You said no one ever comes to this park. So make me come in this park Billy.” Elijah half laughed and half growled his request. He shifted back impatiently, trying to bring his backside into contact with Billy.

Billy’s resolve melted. Here he was, standing in a car park with his jeans and boxers around his ankles, dick in hand. If they got caught they got caught. The local homophobic thugs would beat them senseless, that was all. But at the moment that sounded a lesser option than leaving his erection unattended. He reached for the lube, and made to slick some onto his hand, ready to prepare Elijah.

“No, can’t wait. Just fuck me,” breathed Elijah, still urgently straining back to find Billy.

“But I’ll hurt you Lij,” said Billy.

Elijah just grabbed hold of Billy’s hand, and cock.

“NOW!” he hissed. “I want you to fuck me now.”

Fucking like a hooligan in a car park was not usual fare for Billy, but with Elijah spreadeagled across the bonnet of the car, it didn’t take him much effort to guide his cock to where Elijah was pleading, with muffled expletives, for it to be. Billy braced one hand against the car, and then forced himself in. Elijah cried out.

“I’m hurting you,” Billy said, stopping mid thrust.

“Like a motherfucker,” laughed Elijah. “But don’t stop. I want this. I want it to hurt.”

As if to confirm his intentions, Elijah reached around and pulled Billy’s hand to his hip, just where his tattoo was. Billy could feel the beginnings of a deep scratch, the handy work of Jock when he had lifted Elijah in anger. Billy traced up and along it.

“Harder,” pleaded Elijah.

Billy didn’t know whether Elijah meant his traverse of the scar, or his increasingly fervent thrusts. He realised Elijah meant both. His hand dug into Elijah’s belly, forcing him back hard onto his cock. Elijah cried out, then moaned as Billy brushed against his prostate. Billy kept the angle, rocking Elijah against the cold steel of the ‘green beauty’. He was close himself, and reached between the car and Elijah, replacing the feel of cold metal with the warmth of his hand around Elijah’s cock. He started a hard vicious rhythm to match his thrusts. It took just a few strokes for Elijah to come, over Billy’s hand and across the bonnet of the car.

Billy sagged against Elijah, trying to gain his breath back from his own orgasm. Elijah lifted himself onto the edge of the car, wheeled around, and wrapped his legs around Billy. He claimed his mouth with his, kissing him deeply, then pulled back to survey Billy with a smile.

“Thanks Billy,” he said simply. “For the game.”

Billy looked at the bonnet of ‘the green beauty’. “I don’t think you’d better put that in for hand washing!” he laughed.

“I really did claim my territory didn’t I?” giggled Elijah. “So Billy Boy, when’s the next game?” he asked hopefully.

Hooligan Lij

THE END

Comments

[owlgrey.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[domslover.livejournal.com]

ur welcome :D