Ki Malachov

Ki Malochov
He will charge his angels... (Psalm 91)

All characters are fictional and belong to other people with lots of layers and stuff. This is strictly for fun, no profit made, no harm , no foul, nothing worth suing for here. These are not the Pretenders you are looking for. I put them back when I was done with them, after a shower and a snack. Enjoy.

A Mortifyd addition based on the Episode “Nip and Tuck”.

Broots pulled into the driveway, noting the entryway lights were still on this time, and sighed. He turned off the car and stepped into the driveway, giving himself a little mental pep talk as he walked up the brick steps to the front door. He still felt like he was being watched, and Brigitte had freaked him out earlier in a bad way. He pulled the door key out as he approached the landing and turned as the snap of a twig echoed in the darkness. “Hello?” he called out, looking around and feeling his skin creep.

“Who’s there?” Broots asked, then he noticed the manila envelope on the step. He jogged the few steps to the envelope and picked it up. He looked around nervously and opened the clasp, exposing a handfull of photos of himself and Debbie over the weekend.

Not my Peanut, he thought, his heart aching. He looked around, feeling eyes on him once again, and was afraid, really afraid for his own life and the life of his little girl. There were a lot of games at the Centre, but this one was new and uglier, and only looked to get deeper by the minute. He called out again into the dark suburban street, “Hello?” unaware of the gun just meters from his face.

As the hammer cocked and the first shot was fired, Broots felt himself tackled, flying ass over tea kettle down his own front lawn, the reports and the sound of breaking glass a surreal counterpoint to his own screams. The two bodies rolled over each other, adrenaline flooding as their momentum carried them away from the shooter. They skidded to a stop in the grass, Broots finding himself flushed and panting, their legs tangled, his right hand clutching his jacket, left under his saviors head. “Angelo??” he asked, incredulous as he gazed at the man who lay panting in his arms.

Tires squealed in the road as Angelo reached into his jacket pocket, offering Broots the folded pink paper. Broots took it from his hand, knowing it was the picture he had taped to his desk earlier in the day. He unfolded the clown picture his precious Debbie had drawn for him as Angelo said softly, “Daddy afraid.”

Broots dropped the picture to his chest with a sigh, Angelo curled beside him, laying across his leg, their knees touching in the grass. Angelo looked up at Broots grinning shyly, and reached out, patting his chest with his expressive hands. “Daddy safe,” he said softly as he scooted closer to Broots, unable to make his tongue express his deep affection for the other man adequately.

“Come on Angelo, let’s go inside before someone comes back.” Broots tried to shake it off, but he was feeling more than a little woozy on the inside. How did Angelo know? For that matter, how did he get out of the Centre? he wondered, helping Angelo to his feet. They headed to the front door. The window by the door was gone, but Broots was too frazzled to care anymore. He slid the key into the lock and walked Angelo into the house. “You want something to drink Angelo?” he asked, heading to the kitchen for a beer. Maybe several.

Angelo looked around the living room, then followed Broots to the kitchen. He found him standing in front of the fridge, the end of his second beer sliding down his throat. As Angelo slipped up behind him, Broots slammed the bottle on the counter. He grabbed a glass from the dishwasher and offered Angelo some Kool-Aid, figuring the pretender didn’t need anything harder than a sugar rush.

“Come on Angelo, let’s go back in the living room.” Broots steered Angelo by one shoulder, holding a third beer and the Kool-Aid in the other hand. Angelo took the glass and sat on the couch, patting the cushion next to him. “Broots sit here.” Broots sat, opening his beer and asked, “Angelo, how did you get here?” Angelo looked deep into Broots eyes, then shook his head. “Daddy afraid. Broots alone.” He reached out and touched Broots cheek, stroking it softly. “Broots not alone anymore.”

Broots felt the blood rush to his face, his heart racing. The alcohol fog swirled in his brain. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Angelo just made a pass at me! He put his beer down slowly, his hands shook as badly as they had rolling down the hill. His mind flashed on them rolling together, landing in a heap, his heart pounded harder. He was kinda freaked, he had to admit. What does Angelo know about sex? Given his association with Lyle and Mr. Rains... Broots decided he didn’t really want to think about that tloselosely.

“Um, ...er,...Angelo,...I... uh,” Broots stammered as he tried to figure out what to do next. Angelo sighed, his hand dropped to his lap, sadness in his face. “Don’t get upset Angelo, I’m not mad or anything, just confused. Really, it’s okay, it’s okay Angelo, really, ” Broots mumbled, trying to figure out what to do with his arms and legs all of a sudden. “I, I should thank you for saving my life, Angelo, I, uh, oh boy,” he said, putting his arm around Angelo’s withdrawn frame. “I..., thank you Angelo, thank you for saving me,” hugging him tight and trying to feel out loud to Angelo how happy he was to be alive.

Angelo sat quietly, then felt the wave of feeling from Broots wash over him. “Broots safe now,” he said, and turned to hug Broots in return. He snuggled closer to Broots, almost pulling the larger man on top of him and grabbed his face, looking deeply into his eyes. “Alive is good.” His eyes searched Broots face as he licked his lips and waited.

Broots looked at Angelo, knowing there was something about to happen or not happen right now. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and leaned forward just a fraction, closing his eyes. He heard Angelo’s breath, then felt lips on his lips. Angelo tentetively licked at Broots lower lip, drawing it into his mouth, tasting, sucking softly. Broots moaned in his throat and began to kiss back, part of his brain going into overdrive over how good it was, another part screaming this is bad this is bad, going to hell Broots going to hell over and over. He kept kissing.

They lost track of anything other than tasting each other, exploring, breathing, finally aware of the cold from the shot out window. “Come on Angelo, let’s go upstairs.” Broots didn’t need to ask twice. Angelo grinned, waggled his eyebrows and followed him up the stairs. Once in the bedroom a flurry of clothing clashed on the carpet in heaps, both men were quickly under the covers and in each others arms. Broots marveled at the springy, wiry hair that covered Angelo in contrast to his own dark, thicker hair, shyly running his hands along Angelo’s chest, the strength of his smaller frame revealed.

Angelo began to kiss Broots chest, almost holding him down as he explored the man’s body, following the lines of muscle, blowing a raspberry on Broots lean stomach before slowly reaching for the other man’s cock. Broots watched with an odd mix of fear and excitement as he realized Angelo was going to touch him THERE his mind screamed. He’s gonna touch your junk he’s gonna touch your junk, he said to himself, and it’s gonna feel good too another part said quietly. He just lay there and watched it happen.

Angelo felt the turmoil inside Broots, his own insides quivering with excitement. He knew Broots felt his erection pressing against his thigh, felt his heart beating, as he closed his hand on Broots manhood, stroking him gently, smiling at the groan of pleasure and the goofy look of incredulity on Broots face. He tugged gently, feeling the other man respond in his hand and reached up to run his other hand over Broots chest reassuringly.

Broots moaned as Angelo’s hand actually touched him, touched him softly, just right he thought, just right oh..., he closed his eyes and was lost, feeling nothing but Angelo’s hands giving him pleasure. He became aware of the heat and stiffness of Angelo’s cock pressing against his leg, his hand reaching out to touch it, to hold it before he realized what he was doing. He held the other man’s penis gently, then began to copy the strokes Angelo made on his own, sending shivers through them both. Angelo bent forward, catching the head of Brooock ock in his mouth and sucked it gently, increasing Broots grip on his throbing erection.

Broots jerked his hips forward when Angelo started to suck him, lost in how good it felt. He whimpered in the back of his throat as Angelo swallowed him in, his hot tongue snaking around the head of his cock, his hands grasping at Angelo’s head, smoothing the ruddy hair in spasms of pleasure. Angelo slid down the bed between Broots legs begabegan to suck him in earnest, stroking his sack as he sighed and slurped contentedly, aware of the pleasure he was bringing Broots. “Oh-ghod-oh-ghod-oh-ghod-oh-ghod,” Broots babbled in the throws of Angelo’s ministrations. His throbbing cock escaped the heat of Angelo’s mouth only to feel his balls enveloped in that wet hot mouth in turn. “Oh! You gotta stop,” Broots moaned, trying to ease back from Angelo’s hungry mouth. “You gotta stop, Angelo, I’m gonna cum.” Angelo felt Broots urgency more than he heard the words and released him slowly, licking his swollen lips, eyes shining with desire.

Broots grabbed his arm and coaxed him up the bed, kissing Angelo deeply and marveling at the taste of his cock on the other mans tongue. He kissed his way down Angelo’s chest, stopping to lick the dark nipples and blow on them softly, then exploring the navel, aware of the throbbing cock inches from his face. Angelo rubbed his shoulders as Broots opened his mouth, returning what he had reed, ed, enjoying the scent and taste of his lover. Angelo whimpered, laying back in the bed as Broots sucked him, slowly at first, then with more interest and skill as he explored Angelo’s reactions.

Angelo thrashed in the bed, his mind reeling from the pleasure of Broots sucking his cock. “Stop now, stop now, too much!” he cried, feeling himself approaching the edge, touching Broots shoulder gently. Broots released him immediately, afraid he was hurting Angelo, suddenly aware of what he really doing, afraid he had done something wrong. Angelo reached out, pulling Broots on top of him, wrapping his legs around the other mans hips. “Finish.” He traced Broots jaw with a finger, wiggling in his arms and flexing his thighs around his lovers flanks. “Finish,” he said again looking into his eyes, trying to make Broots understand what he wanted.

“You want me to...” Broots said softly, suddenly understanding exactly what Angelo was asking. “Are you sure, Angelo?” he asked, even as his hand went for the lube he kept in the bedside table. lo slo smiled and let Broots free, turning onto his stomach as the other knelt behind him. Broots lubed up his cock, and reached out gently, pushing a slippery finger into Angelo’s waiting ass. He was unprepared for Angelo’s galvanistic reaction, his whole body jerked with pleasure as Broots gentle finger slipped in, but he understood it was okay somehow. He continued to tease Angelo’s ass, stroking himself in time to Angelo’s sighs and whimpers until he realized the man was softly begging him, “Please... please now... finish ...please Broots,” jerking his hips into the bed.

Broots pulled Angelo up on his knees and placed the head of his cock at his opening. Before he could begin to push Angelo jerked backwards, impaling himself and sighing ‘Yeeeeeesssssssss,’ pressing his hips back against Broots body until he took him in completely. Broots moaned at the ing ing of his cock buried in Angelo and began to pump him slowly, each stroke hotter and more intense than the last until he couldn’t tell where he ended and Angelo began, just one body and two souls, lost in each other.

He felt like he was melting somewhere deep inside and realized he was feeling Angelo’s pleasure as he took him, realized how Angelo’s gift was changing everything. Broots felt his mind flip as his cock exploded, blowing his load deep in Angelo’s ass. Angelo came with a moan, milking Broots spurting cock as he jerked and bucked his hips, their pleasure flowing between them until they actually passed out from overload.

Angelo woke and slipped from the bed, Broots snoring on his side from when they collapsed together. He dressed quickly, them reached out gently, kissing Broots one last time. He slipped down the stairs and remembered the colors and the paper in the living room. He ran quickly and dropped to the floor, putting crayon to paper feverishly, his fingers working the paper, smoothing a line, softening a color until he stopped, satisfied. He placed it carefully under his empty glass and slipped off into the night, back to his space at the Centre before he was truly missed.

When Broots woke up Angelo was long gone, the bed cold and his naked ass right in the wet spot. “Some things never change,” he muttered softly to himself with a smile. He threw on his shortd rod robe, and checked out the house, but it was empty. He called the glass place and got dressed, and almost had himself convinced it was a dream until he saw the picture under the empty glass on the coffee table. Angelo left a portrait of Broots lying asleep with a look of absolute peace.