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The A Train
by Mink; illustration by Mirai
This fan fiction is based on the band: The Culture Bats, I do not own these characters but I hope to do them justice. -mink-
J.J. stared at the pile of mail that lay haphazardly on the unmade bed and chewed the ice that remained at the bottom of the too small, too thick glass that these fancy hotels seemed to like. He shed the itchy complimentary robe he had put on after his shower and lounged naked on top of it on the over stuffed chair by the window.
He frowned down at the drink in his hand. If you filled it with Goose there was no room for ice, if you filled it with ice then you got a thimble full of the Goose. He grabbed the bottle off the table instead and flopped down on the bed, upsetting the tittering stack of letters and small parcels.
He picked a lavender envelope out of the heap and pressed the scented stickered paper to his smile. Opening every other one he saw what he usually did when he didn't pass off his fans offerings to a league of nameless assistants that dutifully sent the chosen ones back his photo with the embossed signature. The marriage proposals. The incoherent worship with naked amateur photos. Requests for his presence at adolescent girls birthday parties. Sometimes even candy that Twist hadn't already pilfered.
Much of a bottle of vodka later J.J. pushed the tattered remains of correspondence off his bed with his bare feet and rolled over to appraise what was left.
The packages were always more interesting and he always saved them for last. It had been a few months since the powers that be allowed him direct access to his precious boxes since six months ago an unassuming box exploded in the middle of a crowded after party in a cloud of white powder. Although it had only been a zealous fan gift of an incredibly generous sized bag of cocaine, the ensuing panic had left an impression on those who were involved in the stampede that followed.
J.J. giggled a little at the memory of it. It was J.J. himself of all people that regained order but, the more J.J. thought about it, who better to recognize one white powder from another?
The first small box contained a small silver Libra charm on a necklace. Sticking his tongue out, J.J. tossed it over his shoulder having received charms of the sort at least once a week over the course of a few years.
The second, to his horror, was what he was certain was a clipping of someone's pubic hair in a satin baggie.
The third was the largest and most promising. Some what suspicious after the satin bag J.J. opened it cautiously.
It was a bright hot pink and translucent. Delighted, J.J. pulled it out of the box and shook it out of its stiff folded shape thrilled at the balloon, vinyl plastic reek of it. It was a coat. Sliding his bare arms into the cold slick sleeves, he stood infront of the mirror and admired the strange affect it had over his nude body. Clothed but exposed, see through and ending at the tops of his thighs with a jangling painted metallic blue zipper. It was chosen it seemed for its near perfect hue that best accented his easter egg shade of pink hair.
He zipped it up to his neck and turned to admire himself from the back. It was one of his favorite things in the world. The dress up. The feel of new material and colors on his body. The rush of the vodka making hands run down the slick shiny chest of the coat, down his hips and over the firm curve of his ass.
It was then he noticed the small square of paper that was in the clear pocket at his side. He slipped his hand into the warmed plastic and took it out.
Curious and pleased with the gift he unfolded it.
From Your Ever Watchful Fan.
J.J. let the note flutter to the floor and went to zip on a pair of white vinyl knee high boots and slide on a thong. He was going to go just like this to the party he had been demanded to attend two floors up in the penthouse suite.
By the time his hotel door swung shut he had forgotten all about the scattered pile of never to be answered letters, the charm that was laying somewhere behind the headboard for a maid to find and the carefully written note that lay discarded on the floor.
They ended up spending a week longer in New York than they had anticipated. The first and supposedly last of the three shows sold so well that they decided to run till the following weekend. Great for the fans, better for the bank, but the band was already exhausted from the month earlier running around down in South America.They had one day, J.L informed them sternly, to sleep before the weekend finale started. It was an order more than a recommendation and most of the Bats were doing just that, be it alone or with each other.
J.J. had no such intentions of doing anything so banal as rest in what he considered one of the finest cities to get wasted in on the planet. Besides, he reveled in these moments when he could get away and walk past the black car that waited for him down at the hotel lobby. Hitting the Friday night crowded sidewalks with a grin and laugh, J.J. was absorbed into the anonymous masses that were flowing down underground to the subway. A very old friend of an ex-dealer's boyfriend had mentioned a party in the basement of a church. Out of respect, J.J. had worn an extremely short metal plated mini skirt he found in his bed sheets when he woke up after a party last week, the python print panties that were tossed aside with it, a demure white tank top and his favorite zip up platforms.
And, his constant companion of late, the pink plastic coat.
J.J. pushed himself in with the throng of people into the nearest train car unwilling to wait another 20 minutes for the next ride. Holding his breath just so the door could close, he sighed, mashed between two sober business men who were still to their credit trying to read their papers and palm pilots even with the lack of elbow room, and an elaborate set of fake nails attached to a Latina shrieking into her cell phone.
He managed to turn all the way around so he wasn't literally face to face with any of them, and instead took refuge with the subway car doors and the concrete tunnel walls that whizzed by, J.J. had always thought privately, much too closely. The sudden buzz and thrum of the bass line in "She Bop" told him his own cell was ringing in his fuzzy vanity backpack but he ignored it.
"Sorry J.L." J.J. told his backpack. "I knew the pillows under the blankets wouldn't fool you all night, but..." he snapped his gum. "A boy has to have some fun."
J.J. sighed and shifted in his platforms as the train car whined on the tracks and leaned into a turn. He tapped his fingers on metal rail beside him like a keyboard, an unconscious habit whenever his hands were at rest on anything. A crackling voice on the intercom burst out directly over his head making him wince. He didn't catch the dire news but everyone in the car started shifting around behind him in agitation. The Latina moved on deeper in the crowd demanding a seat, J.J. ignored the pushes and shoves of the bodies that filled into her ample place.
The intercom barked one more time and then train ground to a leisurely crawl, the steady clack clack across the tracks slowing almost to nothing.
Great.
He always had a wave of mild claustrophobia when the train doors closed and they went rushing off into the dark but it was never anything he couldn't handle. As long as they were moving he was fine. He checked the Hello Kitty watch-key chain hanging from his backpack. So he'd be late for the shower contest no big-
The lights went out.
The crowded car murmured out loud over the noisy train to themselves and each other.
J.J. scowled in the dark, the press of bodies was suddenly a little too much. He tried to make room for himself by backing away from the doors but the person behind him now would not budge an inch. Taking need over tact, J.J. purposefully stepped back into the person assuming they'd make way.
Instead, they shoved back, hard, slamming J.J. back into the doors. "Hey! Watch it!" he hissed.
The person behind him put a hand on the small of his back, right under his backpack, and held him there firmly while they tugged the straps off over his shoulders.
Oh perfect, thought J.J., I'm being robbed. He shrugged. They'd get his lip gloss, regrettably his candy, but hey, more where that came from, and his travel sized bottle of wet glide. Then his cell phone started ringing again. J.J. couldn't help it, he started laughing. "Could you answer that and tell J.L that I'm being mugged? I think he'd enjoy that-"
They suddenly grasped the back of his plastic coat and yanked him back only to shove him into the doors again. It was meant to hurt and it knocked the air right out of his lungs.
"...guess you...don't like cells in public....." J.J. gasped.
Two hands grasped his hips pinning him effectively against the train doors and forcing him to put up his hands against the glass windows to brace himself. His forehead against the glass, J.J. turned his head questioningly, he had been confused but now he was just pissed off, they were surrounded by people in a crowded train car, what else could possibly happen?
The hands seem to flex on his pink plastic coat and then they started to travel down until it found the hem of his very short skirt.
J.J. sighed in disgust. They were looking for more? "That's all I have, my backpack-"
A hand went over his mouth and their lips brushed against his ear. "Shhhhhhhh."
Frozen in place and off set by the sudden turn of events, J.J. blinked over the hand that covered his mouth, and made a small uncertain sound. Whoever it was, was much larger than himself, the tall length of their body was pressed up behind him taking space and blocking any possible view anyone might have. Their other hand continued to travel the edge of his skirt, then the bare skin of his thighs.
J.J. gasped when the hand pushed up under his skirt and squeezed him gently between the legs.
He realized too late, how perfect this dark train was to hide in.
No one could see what was happening in the near pitch blackness and even worse, no one cared. He had to adjust his footing as the hand between his legs forced him to move his thighs further apart, squeezing and tugging at his cock at first then moving backwards under him, nudging his balls forward and rubbing his asshole through the thin fabric of his panties. J.J. whimpered, shifting on the hand as it eased aside the flimsy fabric that was in its way.
The person locked one strong arm down around his waist. J.J. squeaked in protest behind the hand when he was suddenly lifted up off his feet. He felt them move backwards into the crowd, the sudden angry voices of people being shoved out of the way in the dark all around him, the sharp curses when J.J.'s platform boots made hard contact with the crush of bodies as he struggled.
The hand over his mouth was gone and the sound of a door latch being released along with a blast of cooler fresher air hit his face. Before he could think he was set down and pushed, stumbling over the lip of the unseen doorway and blindly, hands out, catching himself from falling on what felt like a lone seat. Dull red and green lights sat in rows before his eyes, a hissing radio sputtered engineers voices.
A conductors booth?
Still standing, he was forced forward, his head cradled in his elbows on the seats cushion, his ass in the air.
His skirt was pushed up and his panties pulled down to his knees. After one hard smack to his naked ass, J.J. knew they had knelt down behind him.
A hot tongue touched his balls making him jump, then a hot mouth swallowed them whole, releasing them one by one then moved up, licking and tonguing him there. He moaned in pain when that hand pulled his sex backwards, back between his thighs, humiliatingly stiff and aching. That mouth took him in like that, from behind, blowing him in long deep swallows.
His legs shook, unsure if he could keep standing, J.J. felt his knees begin to buckle.
They stood up, grasping J.J.'s hips as they did, an arm sliding under and down across his chest, drawing him up until he was standing. The arm slid up until their hand held him under his chin, tipping his head back into their shoulder. The other hand pulled J.J.'s knee up so that one platform boot rested on the seat he was face down in moments before.
J.J. pressed back into the feel of the thick cockhead rubbing up behind him. He had still not been able to turn around. He had still not even seen a face.
"He said you'd like this."
J.J.'s frantic breath caught in his throat.
One hand squeezed his cock while his attacker pushed slowly into his body. J.J. cried out and fell forward, his hands on the lit up board. The train suddenly lurched just as the man behind him started to fuck him, slowly at first and then gaining speed, the dim tunnel lights flashing by faster and faster in the window over them. J.J. could hear himself moaning in the back of his throat, moving himself and fucking the hand that had its slick hard grip between his legs. Somewhere in his backpack that was tossed on the floor, he could hear his cell ringing. He wanted to answer it. He wanted J.L to hear him moan his name while some stranger fucked him.
It was that single thought that did it.
He didn't bother to hold back a sound as he exploded in the man's fist, and let out a gasping breathless laugh when the shuddering contraction of all his body caused the man behind him to moan in unexpected release at almost the same moment. Loosening his grip, he dropped J.J. angrily.
J.J. fell into the seat and struggled to turn onto his back, and half sit up tangled in his plastic coat while he caught his breath. He didn't bother to pull his skirt back down from around his waist, close his sprawled thighs or find his panties. His own cum was all over his stomach and even on his cheek. J.J. squinted his eyes in the small dark compartment at the man that loomed over him in the shadows.
"What is this?" J.J. managed to ask with a smile. "Did my birthday come early this-ah!"
A whir and a flash blinded him. J.J. threw a hand up over his face at the light sizzled into lines across his retinas. It lit up the dark again and again.
Flash
whirrrrrrrrr
Flash
whirrrrrrrr
Flash
whirrrrrrrrJ.J. rubbed at his eyes, molten white zig zags pulsing where the train used to be. He stumbled to his feet and fell over, realizing much too late that his panties weren't gone but just tangled around one ankle.
The door was opened.
"Wait!" J.J. said, unable to see. "Who are-"
His backpack was tossed into his face and the door left swinging open on its loud hinges.
The train glided to a halt and with a hiss of hydraulics, the doors parted. He was the first to step out in the flood of people into the station.
Instead of heading to the grimy concrete stairs that lead up to the streets above he moved away from the steady flow of people and back to the tiled pillars that lined the platform.
Someone was waiting for him. It was his client.
His client nodded to him as he approached, not removing his sunglasses even though it was towards evening. He some how preferred it that way, this client had a look in his pale blue eyes that bothered him for some reason. It was easier to deal with him if they were hidden.
The camera was removed from within his jacket.
His client held out a black gloved hand without a word.
An envelope was exchanged. Bills were counted briefly.
"Will the Ever Watchful Fan be needing me again?"
His client paused and then smiled, turning the camera gently in his hands.
"Contact me next week. I will have another errand for you."
They parted just as another train pulled in and they were both lost in the hordes of people that had places to go, people to meet and important business at hand.
to be continued...
For Liz: This is all for you.
*thank you Triska for your artwork! Thanks Tammy! Happy Birthday Evan, your pink raincoat is now 4EVA! April 6th, 2004
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