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Smeared Makeup and the Smell of Baking Cookies	By : lemonykisses Category: +S through Z > Static Shock Views: 3300 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Smeared Makeup and the Smell of Baking Cookies
- 1
Title: Smeared Makeup and the Smell of Baking Cookies
By LissaChan
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: F-Stop/Richie
Warning(s): M/m smut, anal, oral, OOC, adult language and content (heeheehee)
Disclaimer: I don’t own Static Shock, although I wish I did so I wouldn’t have to make this stuff up. It’d be all real, baby!
A/N: Yallo, again! Since my second favorite holiday (Xmas being my first, although the last three or four I haven’t spent with my entire family, so it might be bumping down the list) is coming just around the corner, I gave myself a challenge, and not more than two hours later, viola! Oh, and this is F-Stop’s POV. I also made up street names, so don’t hit me for the lame names. Hope ya guys enjoy!
Summary: F-Stop is stuck between a rock and a hard place: trick-or-treating for the Sarge's kid or incarceration. Not missing a house (begrudgingly to him), he happens upon the house of one of his hated rivals… or IS he? FS/RF
blah – emphasis
/blah/ – thoughts

Halloween Night, a night for kids under 13 to dress up as the person they want to be when not I reality. For the girls, fairies and witches; for the boys, Power Rangers and Grim Reapers. Me, I’m a fuckin’ devil, in a cheaply made costume, and I’m 18!
/Well, it was either this or back to jail, so your worthless father has to bail you out with his beer money and make you pay it back his way./ I cringe at the horrific thoughts as they shuffle through my head like a bad hand of poker cards. /Which reminds me, I have to get Ebon for that wad of money he promised me./
A poker game gone awry, I get caught with other mutants, and arrested, only I’m allowed this undignified job because the Sargent’s daughter has come down with a rare case of the measles. I’m collecting candy for a fuckin’ 8-year-old, how badass is that? And yes, that’s sarcasm.
Dressed in a red hoodie complete with devil horns on the hood, baggy jeans I sprayed red /They’re still sticky/, and a pair of red sneakers with my face painted red with black lips, black eyelids, I represent the Dark Lord himself as cheap costume jewelry. I don’t care; I just want to get this over with. I fuckin’ hate Halloween.
The bag is getting heavy, even for my strength, which means it’s time to give this up, when I spot a house on the corner of Maple Elm Street, and Gretchen Myers Lane. The porch light is on, so there must be someone home. I completely walked by the house without noticing it.
/Better go to it, or who knows how that prick Sarge will find out./ Muttering under my breath I make my way past the shrilly and sugar-induced trick-or-treaters.
"Hey watch it, punk!" I yell at one of the two Jedi-Knight wannabes as they fight with their plastic light sabers. The one in the black robe almost clocks me in the head with his phallic-looking toy.
Have I mentioned how much I fuckin’ hate Halloween?
I reach the porch and go for the doorbell. Whoever lives here obviously loves cherubs, as the deck is full of memorabilia. Probably some old granny with a small bag of candy corn tied with a ribbon and a slip of paper with a bible reference stapled to the ba- Foley?!
His dark eyebrows narrow at me behind his dorky glasses, glaring at me like I’m scum. "What’re you doing here?"
"Like I came here to visit you. Give me some candy and I won’t punch you."
One eyebrow raises as the opposite corner of his mouth raises also.
"Not bad, com’in." He then backs away from the door.
I take a moment just to process what just happened. I insult him, threaten him, and he invites me into his home?! So I go in. Nice place, kinda big, and it smells like cookies baking, yum.
"Take your shoes off, my mom hates dirty floors."
And I do so like a mindless zombie.
"Nice getup, last minute job?"
"Just shut up and give me the candy. This make-up itches." Why am I in here?
"Fine, it’s in the kitchen." He waves at me to follow and I do so. Nice stretch of hallway, colorful pictures of him through the years with his parents. They look so happy together, lucky bastard.
Then we enter into the sparkling clean kitchen, where the cookies are baking in a large oven.
"This year mom wanted me to hand out cookies. I don’t have anymore ready, so if you’ll wait I’ll give you some." He then goes to the fridge across the room.
"Want something to drink?"
If I thought about it I should be running by now, but I can’t take my eyes off his ass as it wiggles from him opening and closing drawers in the fridge. /Damn, he’s been working out./ He makes it obvious wearing tight jeans and the white ribbed tank sticks to him as if it’s wet. Fuck, now I have a soggy Foley in my head. Thank whoever likes me up there (or down there) that I’m wearing a baggy pair of jeans.
Let’s just say my infatuation with Foley started when I first met Gear, enough said.
"Hey, anyone there?" He waves a hand in front of my face and I nearly jump back into the pantry door, at least I think that’s it, my place isn’t gifted with one.
"All we have is Pepsi." He then drops the can in my free hand… the one not holding the pillowcase of candy… that I’m gripping so hard I can feel my nails slicing though the cotton fabric and into my palm.
"You can put that down, you know. I have my own stash upstairs." He thumbs the ceiling and I gulp.
/Run, you idiot, run!/ My mind keeps screaming at me, but I feel myself letting the bag on the floor.
"Wanna sit?" He goes to the table in the middle of the room; sits up to four and with a Halloween-themed tablecloth on top.
I shake my head and lean against the door, concluding this is where I want to stay.
"Okay," he shrugs and takes his seat at the table closest to me. He turns it so he can face me.
"Okay, let’s cut this, you obvious read up on your part."
Now it’s my turn to raise a black-painted eyebrow at him. "Wha…"
He sighs and sits his can on the table. "Will you stop it?!"
"Stop, what?" I look around the room quickly, making sure there’s no hidden cameras or hidden people in the background.
He is out of his chair and pins me to the door with one leg in between mine.
"Get off me man!" I shove him only to get a hand right on my semi-erect cock. I choke in a grunt when he starts fondling me.
"God, you’re bigger than the last one!" He moans in my ear, sending shivers up my spine.
Now I’m gripping his biceps as he fondles me some more. What the fuck is going on?! Am I dreaming and in reality I’m still at the front door, waiting for it to open and some old lady with baggie full of candy corn to give me?
God, he’s biting too hard on my neck, but it feels so good! He has my pants unzipped and around my ankles as he’s beating me off in my boxers. He’s an expert at this, getting me at a right grip and sweeping the tip of the head with his thumb once in a while. My nails are raking against the skin on his lower back under his tank.
"Fuck!" he cries out and he drops to his knees while dropping my boxers to join my jeans.
With my own eyes I watch as my archrival takes my hard cock in his hot and velvety mouth. Never will I see anything this fucking hot again. I moan as I pet his soft hair and I watch him take me in and pull me out, slowly at first, and then as his pace quickens. The more of my length he takes in, the same amount he takes out, exhaling cool air from his nose, until his nose is smashed against me and nestled in my pubic hair.
"Oh God!"
His throat muscles manipulate over the head my cock, sucking and pulling on me, as his worm of a tongue snakes around and licks me like a lollipop.
He looks up at me while he’s making me into puddy and his eyes have darkened into deep blue pools of wanton and desire.
"So fucking hot," I whisper down at him.
Then he pulls me completely out of his mouth and cold air against my hot and wet flesh sends prickles all of my skin. He stands up to face me and without looking away I can hear him and see with my peripheral vision that he’s undressing from the waist down.
"Can you handle me, big boy?"
Then it dawns on me. /I’m ‘bigger then the last one’, I need to ‘cut this’, he thinks I’m a prostitute, who happens to look like the real thing. Fuck, he likes me?!/
I feel a ditch of hot flesh trapping my dick and I blink as a moan escapes me. His back is to me and he’s trapped me in between his ass cheeks. My hands are clenching to his hips as he does this snake thing against me, making me burn and tingly all over.
His arms meet at the back of my neck, fingers toying with my hoodie.
"I’ve always wanted to fuck a demon." He whispers as his body does a single and very deliberate roll against me.
I can’t stop a cry from escaping me. /He’s fucking limber like a serpent!/ "How’d you learn to do that?!"
He then faces me with his hands placed on the door behind me right at my head. "Yoga has its many advantages." Then he suddenly climbs onto me, literally, like a monkey. His legs fasten around my waist and my hands barely grab a hold of him as his arms are around my neck again.
"I’ve already taken the liberty to stretch myself first. Good thing, I didn’t know what time you would’ve showed up."
I just shrug a bit, "I like to be an early bird."
He grins crooked, "Well, you just got your worm, birdie. Or is it more appropriate to say I’ve got it?" He squeezes my cock in his hand to emphasize and I grunt low. Then he leads the head to his puckered entrance.
I’ve never fucked a guy before, so it’s safe to say that I let him lead for right now. The fucking part should be the same, right?
Then all thought scatters to the wind as I’m suddenly consumed by fire and vice-like tightness.
"Fuck! You are bigger!"
My eyes are screwed shut and I fight to open one to look at him.
His eyes are tightly shut also and his teeth are bared with tendons standing out in his neck. But the more I go in the more relaxed he appears.
When I’m finally seated in him and he’s against me, his eyes blink open and focus on me behind he’s slightly fogged glasses, because I’m panting on him. /Fuck, I don’t think I’ll be straight ever again if all guys are tight like this…/
"I take it you’ve never fucked a guy before."
I nod, forgetting who I’m supposed to be.
"The principles are the same, but if I angle right here-" He then leans back a bit, using my shoulder as leverage as he hangs from them.
The sudden shift of position has me closing my eyes and moaning loud as I clench his ass.
"Agh! We can both get off-Fuck!"
I’m thrusting into him before he can finish. He’s so tight and warm; it’s like he was built just for me. I’m pulling him up and pushing him back, gyrating my hips against my pace to fuck into him harder.
"Fuck…Agh-agh!…Fran-F-Stop!!…Agh God!" He’s a vocal one and I like that. "Fuck, yeah!…Right there, big boy!" Now his face is against my right shoulder and I can feel the framed edged of his glasses digging painfully into me. The hood to my hoodie is down the back of my head and I’m crying out along with him, vocalizing my approval of his encouragement.
I know my makeup job is a mess, but I don’t care. I’m getting tail, whether it being my archrival in his kitchen or some nameless slut in a back alley. Personally I still go for Foley just because he promises me cookies afterwards. They’re my ultimate weakness.
Fuck! Now he’s doing the snake thing while I’m fucking into him. He’s wildly thrashing and wringing screams out of both of us. His parents must not be here for him to get us so loud. He facing me again, eyes unfocused and staring at my lips. He wants to kiss me, but I’m thinking it’s the makeup stopping him from doing so.
"Fuck it," I growl and I’m smearing black and red all over his smooth and clean skin. It’s not as nice as I want it to be, due to I’m fucking him and I’m wearing makeup, but he seems to approve with his tongue licking at my lips for entrance. I happily accept but battle him for dominance of his own mouth. I win this round, as I’m planning for later battles.
Sooner then I want my orgasm nears, building into a fast explosion that will surely hurt like Hell… /Bring it on./
"Fuck, I’m gonna come, Foley!"
"Me, too!" His voice is pitching higher as he leans back to grind more into me. "Touch me, F-Stop!"
/I am! Wait, does he mean-/ I glance down at his rock hard and leaking cock looking up at me as it bobs it’s frantic hello for acknowledgement. /Fuck it./ I grab onto it and jerk him off in a pace and grip I know gets me off and let’s just say I’ve never heard Foley scream like that before. It sends a large spasm of shivers down my body, bringing me over the edge and screaming his name from my lips to the ceiling.
My vision is blinded by bright white light and speckles of grey and red firework their way in the white. My body is spasming like I’m having a fucking seizure and I’m fighting so hard to keep a hold of him. I don’t want to leave his tight ass just yet, and I know I’m gonna be sore within an hour; I probably won’t be able to walk right for a few days. But I know that’s nothing compared to the damage I put him through.
When I finally return to reality I’m looking into beautiful blue-grey eyes magnified by the prescription of Foley’s glasses. Then my eyes sting from the sweat-mixed-with-makeup beading from my forehead. Without thinking I lift a sleeve and smear my makeup all over it, taking most of it off my skin. When I look back at him, his eyes widen.
"OhmiGod, it’s really you!" He shoves out of my arms and falls right on his ass, which he yelps about. He skitters back and runs right into the table behind him, head banging on the edge. He yelps again and clutches the back of his head.
"Shit!" I’m on my knees and crawling to him. I reach for his hands to check his head but he jerks to the side, out of my reach.
"God, don’t kill me! I didn’t know, I swear!" He’s cowering like a lost little puppy that’s been recently kicked.
I think I’m having a stroke, because there’s a sudden pain in my chest at seeing the fearful look he’s directing at me. I never noticed how much power I have over him when he’s vulnerable like this, maybe because I didn’t think he’d ever like me this way.
"Calm down, Foley. I’m not gonna kill you, or use this as blackmail. If I didn’t want this I would have left a long time ago." I don’t know why I’m so calm, maybe because I just lost all that tension I had for him, but it seems to be catching as he slowly comes back to himself under my gaze.
"Then you… you feel the same way?"
I just lean over and kiss him, smearing more makeup on him in the process.
He grunts but moans in exhale as his fingers automatically tangle into my hair on the back of my head, a hot spot of mine.
I shiver and climb on top of him, pinning him to the floor. Our spent and soggy cocks rub against each other, making the both of us moan and whine out because it’s too early for the both of us to go at it again.
I finally break away. It’s turning me on seeing how the black and red blotches and streaks dirty his face.
"Why do we fight anyway?"
"Because that’s how the world works, Foley. I’m the badass, you’re the good guy."
"But I like you."
I smile crooked. "I like you, too." I lean down and kiss him again, this time short and sweet.
"Mmmm, does this have to be just a one-time thing?" His arms wrap tighter around my neck.
"As long as you call me ‘Francis’ when we’re alone, I’ll let you say it as much as you like, since you almost slipped up earlier."
He beams a grin at me, "Good, call me ‘Richie’ when we’re alone, then, Francis."
"Sounds like a plan, Richie." And we seal the deal with another kiss.
Just then the timer to the oven beeps off at us to signal that the cookies are done. We both burst out laughing.
I think I can get use to Halloween…
THE END
- 1
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Smeared Makeup and the Smell of Baking Cookies