A Boy Who Came In from the Cold Ch. 02

Ant decided to keep tabs on him and his judgement was soon rewarded, when he returned from one of his scouting trips with a sassy-looking young woman in tow. She was neither tall nor short with close-cropped, shiny black hair and a dangerously lean physique that curved in all the right places. Appreciatively, Ant watched her pert little cheeks strain against the tight PVC mini skirt she was just about wearing. Her lacy white top was almost too baggy to stay on her shoulders and revealed a daring peek of black mesh bra each time she bent or turned to listen to someone. Her companion had to shout now to make himself heard over the swelling crowd of evening drinkers.

A few awkward looking 'suits' were in there having a quick pint after work, but the crowd was mainly kids, laughing and talking and comparing outfits. Ant had just decided that he might stay and see if the sexy girl was in one of the bands (if so his evening had not been wasted even if Rayne did not show) when the door opened again. Two more people tumbled in, struggling with a huge black instrument case. The fellow with his back to the room was stocky and shaven-headed, struggling to keep hold of the container. The one behind the box was completely obscured by it and it was not until they were fighting their way through the crowds into the back room of the pub that Ant saw the familiar flash of blond fringe.

He felt his heart quicken instantly. Rayne had changed since this morning. He was wearing a fitted shirt of some very fine, black, gauzy material and dark suit pants that hugged his hips but flapped loosely around his knees and ankles as he moved. A silver chain with a dangling pendant of painted flowers hung around his neck in the open V of his shirt and his eyelids and lips shimmered with make-up. The effect was even more fetchingly androgynous than before. Someone had applied careful foundation to cover the bruise on his cheek and his dark hair had been gelled back and now fell in two thick waves down either side of his pretty face, framing it like a little white heart.

Ant was tempted to go straight to him but the logistics of such a manoeuvre were an absolute nightmare. The bar was between him and the back room and the crowd was getting steadily thicker. To add to his problem, other musicians were already dropping back to the stage area and locating their equipment, tuning up inaudibly beyond the steady rumble of the audience and the pub's jukebox (which was playing a track that sounded like a bunch of hysterical schoolgirls screaming and vomiting simultaneously). Through the melee, he saw Rayne unzip his guitar case and sling the strap of the battered black bass over his head and one slender shoulder. The small, dark haired lad who had been watching the door now joined him and started screwing together a number of pieces of chrome-plated keyboard stand. He and Rayne were laughing together whilst the skinhead guy and two of the punks from the bar began to assemble the drum-kit behind them.

At the bar, the black haired girl in the short skirt was talking to the blond man Ant had seen with Rayne's companion earlier. Another fellow, who looked nothing like the musicians or the mainly student crowd in here, had joined them. He was taller than either of them and wore an expensive looking grey suit that fitted him perfectly. His fair hair was short and immaculate with a little quiff of pale fringe that lay smoothly over his forehead. Unlike most of the people in the Falcon tonight, he did not look particularly pleased to be here and kept checking his watch impatiently.

Ant was distracted from his people-watching by the crackle of noise coming over the amplifier at the back of the room. A number of students collected their drinks and came to sit or stand around the few tables scattered at the edge of the dance-floor. The jukebox was turned down and the sound-check began in earnest. Rayne had disappeared and now Ant could see a glimmer of light from a doorway to the left of the stage area. He nudged his way through the crowd towards it and slipped through, only to be stopped by the guy with the shaved head.

"Oi... performers and entourage only mate," the guy said gruffly but not offensively.

"I'm a friend of Rayne's, I need to have a word with him," Ant explained at once, praying that the boy had not made up his name as well. "It'll only take a minute."

"What's yer name?" The skinhead was still eyeing him distrustfully. Ant thought he was being a tad over protective of a little known pub band guitarist but volunteered his credentials reluctantly and was told to wait.

As soon as the guy disappeared around the bend in the stairs, Ant followed quietly. He heard voices behind another door to the right and pushed it open just as Rayne jumped to his feet, face pale as milk. As his wide-eyed, guilty stare met Ant's admonishing eyes, the older man thought he saw a flash of anxiety there but something else too, something that looked like relief. He was perplexed, but not for long.

"Christ Ant! I thought you were Johnno!" Rayne was shaking his head, visibly scared but also clearly grateful.

"I tried to tell you," the other man was insisting now. "I told him, 'stay put'."

"Fine bouncer you make!" the lad was laughing weakly.

"I'm here to drum not act as your fuckin' bodyguard!" The skin gave him a quick, friendly shove. "I'm gonna go back down and make sure everything's proper. Don't be long or Princess'll get 'er knickers in a twist!"

"She isn't wearin' any!" Rayne teased as he vanished through the doorway again. His face grew automatically more serious as he and Ant were left alone. "What you doin' 'ere? You frightened me 'alf to death."

"You're a smart kid, why don't you tell me," Ant folded his arms solemnly across his chest, suppressing a smile at the astounded expression on his lover's face. When Rayne did not make excuses right away he added; "Come on, hand it over."

"What you on about?" The lad half turned away now, fumbling in his little backpack for a cigarette.

"You know damned well what. Give me my wallet, Rayne. I wasn't born yesterday."

"Oh..." he exhaled a little plume of smoke. "'That'! I thought you said I could get some more clothes. If you were gonna get all pissy with me..."

"I said I'd buy you more stuff, not that I'd let you run riot with my cards." Ant heaved a sigh. "I trusted you, Rayne and you ripped me off. Is this how you generally repay people that help you out?"

The boy did not look at him but he rummaged more determinedly in the bag, the cigarette filter clenched between his teeth, and yanked out Ant's wallet, slapping it down on the table between them. Then he pulled on his smoke and turned away muttering; "Oh take your fuckin' cards. Take them and fuck off!"

Ant flicked through the pockets quickly. The cards were all there. "I had about forty quid in here," he pointed out as he slipped it back into his jacket.

"I'm gonna pay you back," Rayne said without looking around. His tone had mellowed but was still quite terse. "I'm just a bit short right now, okay?"

Ant shook his head slowly, glad that he had never been gullible enough to have children. He wondered where Rayne Wylde's remaining family were and whether they knew what he was up to, or even cared. He pretended to be a tough little cookie but Ant had already figured that this was just an act. He had seen Rayne vulnerable, and he still could not convince himself that the boy's behaviour the other day had been all for show.

The boy looked back at him suddenly, a small, serious frown narrowing his luminous eyes. He touched the filter to his lips but did not draw on it.

"I 'will' give you the money, Ant," he declared ardently. "I promise. You're not a bad bloke, right but I screwed you over and you're better off forgetting you met me."

"How much did you spend?" the older man asked, ignoring this.

Rayne managed a slight shrug, avoiding Ant's eyes. "'bout three 'undred pounds."

"It looks good on you," Ant said with a weak smile.

"That's not all." Those green eyes flickered back up to his expectant face defiantly. "We bought some coke with the cash. Jelica's got it. We were gonna do the rest together before we went on. Give us a bit of an extra buzz, you know?"

"Why tell me?" Ant pushed his hands into his pockets.

Rayne stared at him for a moment, not quite accepting the logic of this enquiry. He studied Ant's face as if he was a puzzle, something to be deciphered.

"Why not?" the boy muttered at last. "Let you know what sort of a cunt I am, then maybe you'll piss off out of it and not get 'urt no more."

Ant stepped forward, cupping his face before he had time to step away. He lifted Rayne's mouth to his own and kissed him very softly on his full, glossy lips. The young man tasted of nicotine and pussy juices. Now Ant smiled knowingly as he drew back.

"Did you fuck her, after you bought the coke?"

"Dirty bastard!" Rayne exhaled with a little sneer. He was already heading for the door. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm not the only dirty bastard in here."

For a moment their eyes met again and Rayne surveyed him knowingly. Then he winked and was gone, down the stairs.

WARMING UP:

He did not ask Ant to stay, but it was virtually impossible to get to the bar, let alone back to the front door by now. A sizeable crowd had gathered on the dancefloor and the two young ladies in eyeliner were tinkering with synths and a drum machine. He swept the room and located Rayne Wylde, sitting with the black haired girl at a table by the stage. He was behind her and his arms were looped around her shoulders. From time to time he bent his head to speak into her ear and she laughed or looked up at him knowingly. Then the blond man in the suit appeared and they parted like oil and water, the girl flirting with Mr Suit and Rayne drifting back towards the bar with a hard little scowl on his face.

Ant managed to waylay him there and Rayne looked quite surprised that he had elected to stay.

"I wanted to see you in action," Ant grinned.

"Thought you'd already seen all the action you were after," Rayne flashed back rather more grimly.

"I'm sure you've got more to give!" He let his hand rest in the small of Rayne's back as they reached the counter and the boy bellowed his order to the bartender. It felt good, thinking back to last night when he had been kneeling with his cock between those smooth, perky cheeks, pounding away fiercely. Ant began to get another hard-on just dwelling on it. He was so engrossed that he did not even hear what Rayne was saying to him.

"I said... What are you thinking?" Rayne shouted to be heard above the opening squeals and shrieks of The Spangles' set.

Ant leaned towards him putting his lips to Rayne's ear. "I'm thinking about fucking you."

Rayne leaned back slightly to look him in the eyes. He smiled with lazy incredulity. "Not yet."

"I want to take you upstairs and bang your tight, thieving arsehole," Ant insisted, gulping down half of his pint, emboldened by the alcohol. "You look so tasty."

The black haired beauty knocked back his shot and leaned into Ant once more, his breath hot and quick on the other man's cheek.

"Are you hard?" He asked the question directly into Ant's ear, at the same time running his hand over his companion's crotch and answering his own query. "Ahhh you dirty bastard! You 'are'!"

Ant eagerly squeezed and touched between his mate's legs. Disappointingly the younger man was only half-erect. He privately blamed the session with the 'Princess' this afternoon, although he wished he could have been a fly on the wall for that hot little fuck-fest.

"Has she worn you out?" he teased, eager for details.

"Not completely," Rayne leaned back against the wall by the bar, looking sidelong at him. He had such a knowing expression. Ant was utterly frustrated, having him so close and delicious but virtually untouchable.

"Who's that bloke with her? The new boyfriend?"

Rayne said nothing but he pulled a sneering face and glared across the pub at his nemesis, who seemed blissfully unaware of the daggers he was getting

"Is he the one that punched you?" Ant wanted to know. "Did he give you that shiner? He doesn't look like much of a prize fighter to me."

"Leave it, already!" Rayne instructed curtly, and the topic was closed. "Come on."

He caught Ant's fingers and led him, weaving through the crowd towards the side door. They clattered up the stairs and tumbled through the first doorway they reached, into a darkened room. The sound of grunting and panting alerted them to the fact that they were not alone.

"Shut the fuckin' door!" someone huffed and Rayne slammed it behind him, unbuttoning his pants at once and freeing his dick. In the shimmer of light that came under the door, Ant saw him begin to fist his own cock rapidly.

"Get your back to the door," he breathed out.

Ant did as he was told and Rayne dropped to his knees, deftly unfastening his trousers for him. The other man felt hot, sharp breaths caress his crotch and tumble over his sensitive dick as it jumped out his open fly, then Rayne's soft lips and wet tongue were kissing and stroking their expert way up the underside of his throbbing shaft from balls to tip. He wrapped the clever fingers of one hand around the base of Ant's erection and pumped it, gently at first, then more urgently as his tongue swirled around the older man's fat, purple head. His lips parted wider and swallowed the pulsing, glossy bulb, lavishing attention on it as his tongue flickered back and forth underneath. Ant moaned with pleasure.

His eyes were adjusting to the gloom now and he could make out vague shapes over by the window, silhouetted there, one on his knees, the other, larger figure hunkered down behind. The smaller one was the little, dark-haired keyboard player, he was almost certain. His breath was coming in laboured squeaks as he took the other man's energetic thrusting. His slim, bare hips were gripped tightly in powerful, long-fingered hands. Ant thought he caught the glint of a wedding band on one finger. He guessed it was one of the businessmen he had clocked earlier. The Suit's shirt was undone to the breastbone and his trousers had slipped to his knees as he pumped away at the young man in front of him. The atmosphere smelled potently of musk and lube.

Rayne swallowed him deeper and deeper, taking a good, long mouth and throatful of cock. He nodded steadily into Ant's crotch, working his lips gently up and down the thrusting wand of muscle between them and swallowing periodic gulps of pre-cum and saliva. His eyes were closed and he looked like a gorgeous cock-sucking angel, praying on his knees, worshipping at the altar of Ant's huge boner. The older man linked his fingers behind Rayne's head and began to fuck his mouth hard and fast. He thought he heard the youngster make an approving noise and the vibration from his palate sent little quivers of pleasure all the way back down Ant's shaft to his bollocks. Much as he ached to press his cock deep into Rayne's lovely arsehole and fuck him there, he knew that he was probably going to cum in the next five seconds.

From the incoherent grunts of passion on the other side of the room, he gathered that the Suit was not far off his own massive climax. He grunted and swore as he filled his young mate with spunk. Ant felt the answering surge of sexual release flood up from his groin, searing through his cock and fountaining out copiously into Rayne's open mouth. From the region of his crotch he heard Rayne utter a short, muffled curse. The lad stumbled to his feet, coughing into his cupped hands and wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve. Ant caught him in a bear hug, groping from behind for the youngster's hard-on and wanking him vigorously.

"Ohhh... ahhhhh.... Yeah!" Rayne exhaled breathlessly, sinking back like a lean, sexy panther in his encircling arms, rubbing up against him. "Don't get spunk on my suit, right!"

He swallowed down the last traces of cum, wriggling in Ant's embrace as the bigger man pulled him close, tugging those soft, cold arse cheeks snugly against his hot genitals. Already Ant was getting stiff again. He kissed Rayne's neck hungrily, rubbing and teasing with his fingers and thumb until the lad squirted hard into his agitating hand, uttering a short, panting yelp of approval. Sticky heat encased his fingers and sweaty palm. Ant dry humped his bare arse enthusiastically then switched hands, circling his cum-slippery fingers around the younger fellow's hole and up and down his sleek, sexy crack. The other hand tugged Rayne's filmy shirt open urgently and began to pinch and twist his erect nipples as he eased the boy up against the wall in the smoky darkness.

"Does she let you fuck her up the arse?" Ant hissed excitedly, easing two fingers into his gorgeous young mate and frigging him steadily. "Do you warm her lovely, tight little shitter up with your fingers while you pump that hot wet cunt, then hold onto her sexy tits and fill her up the back way?"

"Shut up and fuck me!" Rayne hissed under his breath. "We're on in less than ten minutes, you bastard!"

On the far side of the room the other young man began to groan quietly. His lover was standing by his head now as he knelt on the floor, naked from the waist down, rising and falling more rapidly. Ant suddenly realised that he was servicing 'both' of the businessmen from the bar. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out one man lying on his back between the boy's legs, stroking his nude thighs and bottom as Rayne's pretty bandmate rode up and down on his cock. The other was feeding him a nice big mouthful of stiff, sweaty dick which he gobbled down greedily whilst stroking the guy's balls.

Turned on by the sight and the grunts of pleasure coming from the threesome, Ant pressed the swelling head of his erection against Rayne's well-fingered spincter and forced it into him eagerly. His sexy young mate swore under his breath then began to buck his slim hips and pert bum back rapidly into Ant's thrusting crotch. He braced himself against the wall, his quiet groans increasing in urgency and frequency as the older man tooled him and played with his nipples in the dark, seedy, sex-scented room. From down below the pounding thump of music in the pub was a counterpoint to their sweaty pumping and grinding. Ant could hear Rayne gasping breathlessly and the little whimpers of pleasure from his fellow musician as both young men submitted willingly to their horny mates.

On the far side of the room one of the men cried out in ecstasy and the boy groaned again, more frantically. He was still sucking and swallowing, the wet sounds of his slurping mouth on his lover's cock echoing the soft, moist squelch of Ant's incessant hard-on rocketing in and out between Rayne's bare buttocks. From a personal point of view, Ant wanted it to go on all night like this but Rayne was suddenly pulling away from him, trying to wriggle off his cock. He gripped the younger man's hips tightly and urged him up hard against the door, banging him furiously, his cock twitching and jumping within the skinny lad's tight, satisfying hole.

"Come on, fuck you! Do it!" Rayne snarled at him, struggling sexily in his grasp. "Cum, you bastard!"

The man who had been lying on the ground was sitting up now, vigorously rubbing the pretty keyboard player's stiff young cock. His standing colleague moaned with satisfaction, bucked hard and moments later the sweet-faced kid jacked off in his partner's pumping hand. His bubbling cry was stifled by a good, hot mouthful of spunk. Watching him, Ant rammed himself into Rayne's lean, beautiful body once, twice... and at the third stabbing stroke he shot his load with a moan of relief, feeling it spurt like a fountain from his throbbing knob-end.