THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Jeremy

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
http://www.asstr.org/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

"A man, woman, is never actually ever helpless," the man told the
group of students in the basketball court. He pointed at his
temple. "It all depends on not how strong or skilled you are, but
how creative."

He picked up a basketball and bounced it once or twice. "Actually
I don't play basketball, my excuse is being British, but that's a
blanket excuse for everything wrong with the world." Weak laughter
greeted his words. He casually gave it one more bounce and then
hurled the ball with an alacrity that stunned the students. The
ball smashed onto the hoop of the far end of the court, cracking
the surface of the board and breaking the hoop's attachment to the
surface. The basketball, deflated, and the hoop crashed to the
ground to stunned silence.

"You can use anything to protect yourself," the man said
nonchalantly. "Here's a further demonstration. Here's a video
cassette," he said, pulling one from his suit pocket. "Any
volunteer for this demonstration?"



"Mr Northam, I asked for a talk on self-defense," Martha
Plimpiton, principal of Holden High School, said through gritted
teeth. "Not a talk about how to use basketballs and computer mice
and buttons to maim and kill people!"

"I did teach them how to defend themselves should they are caught
in a situation without conventional weapons in their disposal,"
Jeremy Northam protested. "How am I supposed to know you just want
me to lecture about some martial art thing?"

"You know what your trouble is, Jeremy? You're screwed up. I mean,
you look so. nice!" Martha waved her hands in desperation. "You
look so polite, so normal, and when you go around telling people
how a well-aimed coin could gouge out the eyes of your assailant,
people get scared and think of Ted Bundy. Get therapy!" Martha
sighed. "You have absolutely terrified my students. I have sixteen
parents filing in complaints. Jesus."

"I told you I'm not good with interacting with children. I'm a
security expert, not a karate teacher." Jeremy cocked his head
charmingly. "Besides, I don't exactly know any martial art." He
bit on his lip thoughtfully, oblivious to Martha's reluctant
fascination at the dash he projected with such small gesture. "Why
are the parents complaining? Would they rather I teach their kids
how to use a machine gun?"

"Let's just say they'd rather you teach them their children how to
use a more inaccessible machine gun than to use a simple spoon to
stab a person to death. The only thing you've accomplished today,
Jeremy dearest, is to ensure that no one would sit in the same
table as you in the cafeteria."



There was no one in the corridor, hence Jeremy was quite startled
an hour after his discussion with his old friend Martha when he
felt a sharp point sticking at the back of his neck. With ease he
reached into his pocket, uncapped his ball pen in quick reflex
motion and placed it on his assailant's stomach.

"A stab here, Billy, will render your lower body paralyzed. Don't
want to put your stubby cock to waste now, do we?"

"Always the fast one, Jeremy." Billy Zane removed the sharp object
- a pencil. "And I'm still the only person who can sneak up on
you."

"What do you want?" Jeremy replaced the pen into his pocket. "I
doubt there's a diamond or priceless artifact around here."

"Actually, I need your help."

"That's fresh. A wanted cat burglar asking a security expert for
help. You must be desperate." Jeremy reached for a smoke. "Say,
want some lunch? I have a feeling I'll be sitting in an empty
table, and I can use some company."



"I'm in deep trouble," Billy said, watching Jeremy eat his
sandwich.

"Tell me something new. What is it? They finally got an ID on
you?"

"No, no fucking way you people will have anything on me. But I now
have Molly after a piece of me too."

"No shit? Molly? Now you're in trouble." Jeremy pushed his
sandwich wrapper aside and looked at the other man closely. Damn,
but Billy still had the sexiest eyebrows and the man's face still
reminded Jeremy of the devil incarnate. "I don't see what this has
to go with me."

"Maybe you can take me into custody?" Billy scowled at Jeremy's
amused grin. "I'm dead serious. You can take me into your custody,
and keep me away from Molly. That man is fucking lunatic, and I
don't do the mob stuff."

"Why is he so keen on seeing you dead? You robbed his collection?"

"Actually I took his new painting. I didn't know the Monet was
his, and when I did find out, the painting was already sold to a
client I can't afford to alienate by stealing it back. I need a
few months to lay low, hence, you."

Laying Billy was quite a fascinating prospect, Jeremy thought.
Shit, where did that thought come from? "And I take you into
custody, hand you to the Interpol?"

"No Interpol. You keep me in your custody for a month, then you
can hand me off to the New York police. I'll escape in a day or
two, and we can go back to playing our cat-and-mouse games again."
Billy could look charming when he wanted to, and now he turned his
fullest roguish charm on Jeremy in one potent look. "Come on
Jeremy. Think of the publicity - security expert caught infamous
thief. You and I, for old time's sake?"

"Why me?" Jeremy shook off the hypnotic spell that was Billy's
eyes and soft, sensual timbre in his voice. He felt the start of a
stirring in his loins, reminding him how long it had been since he
had anyone in his bed. "Don't give me the we-are-friends
bullshit."

"Well, you want me to be honest?"

"If you can. Try your best."

"You're the only person I trust, believe it or not. You're Saint
Jeremy, after all."

"I really detest that moniker." Jeremy's eyes narrowed crossly.
"Why do people think me incapable of deception or guile? Do I look
that straightforward to you? No, don't answer." He snorted in
disgust. "It's the way I talk, is it?" He lost his British accent
on purpose. "Talk in a British accent and the whole world thinks
you're John Lennon."

"Hey, take it easy. You're talking to a fellow who has seen you in
action. I am just complimenting your slightly better than average
degree of honesty than your competitors out there. You're smarter
(or else you won't come this close to catching me), and I know for
a fact that you're clean."

Jeremy chuckled. "I'm having lunch with a wanted man. You call
that clean?"

"Yes, if you'll take me into your custody."

"No." Jeremy stood up. "I won't play your games, Billy. I have no
reason or inclination to help you. Hell, I don't even like you."

"So take me in and get to like me."

"Forget it. I have a life to live." Jeremy walked away with a
glance.



That smarted, Billy thought sourly. Hell, so Jeremy didn't even
like him? They had played games with each other for five years,
and Billy was sure Jeremy enjoyed the mind games and strategy
interception as much as he did. Jeremy was the best challenge he
had ever had in his career, and it was Jeremy that Billy staged
his thefts for. He was richer than Midas, he had no need for any
more thieving, except for the thrill his hobby afforded him each
time he came this close to being caught by Jeremy.

Somehow his warped mind had come to view their games as a perverse
form of courtship. Billy knew long ago Jeremy shared the same
sexual preferences as he, and it only added a delicious erotic
tension on their part. Or rather, his part, he amended. Seemed
that he was the only one getting a hard-on from their encounters.

Jeremy didn't like him. That smarted, hurt even.

What did he expect? Logic told him to expect such reaction from
Jeremy. A thought struck him. Maybe Jeremy was bluffing. Billy
pondered the notion and quite liked it. He knew without vanity
that he was one charming rogue who always got what he wanted,
possession or otherwise. And he wanted Jeremy now, probably for a
long time, since he first eluded Jeremy.

Jeremy was intelligent, had cutting humor, and the only man whom
Billy could kiss without having to bend down. Yes, Jeremy was
perfect.

"Let the game began," Billy told Jeremy's back.


TWO

Jeremy found, much to his disgust, that he had begun entertaining
notions of having Billy in his bed. Somehow having Billy for lunch
- now that was a delightful thought - had opened his eyes to
Billy's demonic handsome face, the slim but well-muscled body with
broad shoulders looking as if they could shoulder the world, and
the devastating grin that promised everything and the moon. He had
noticed these in passing, of course, but somehow in a week, Jeremy
had started to get annoyingly aroused each time he started
daydreaming about Billy naked.

It wouldn't do. He and Billy were opposites when it came to which
side of the law they aligned themselves to. It would ruin Jeremy's
reputation if he were found to be sleeping with a man he was
supposed to bring to justice. Now if only his libido would get
that fact straight.

His libido straightened in more ways than one when he found Billy
naked on his doorstep. And promptly died when Jeremy saw the blood
at Billy's temple and the man's swollen bruises on the right cheek
(barely missing the eye). There was also a long knife-inflicted
gash from under Billy's right nipple down to his navel in an
obscene welt.

"Shit. Molly did caught up you, old buddy."



Billy opened one eye painfully, and groaned when agony wracked
through his battered body. "Fuck," he snarled.

"I believed the proper word should be 'fucked'." Jeremy walked
into the room and pulled apart the curtains, ignoring Billy's
curse when sunlight streamed into the room. "Looks like Molly
caught up on you."

Billy realized he was naked. There was a neat stitch along his
chest (oh yes, the knife wound), and his face hurt. Every inch of
him hurt. "I feel like shit." Memories flooded back - his escape
from Molly's men, the fat bastard cutting him like meat. Molly
would pay. Maybe later - Billy felt warm pleasure when Jeremy came
over and gently tilted Billy's chin to look at the bruise.

"You're pretty cut up, but the doctor did a good job in patching
up as best as he could."

"Am I under custody?" Billy asked hopefully.

"No. You'll be murdered in jail, trust me. Not that it's an
undesirable event, but I couldn't in all decency send you to your
demise. So we are- "

"In your secret holiday house," Billy finished it for the man.

"How the hell did you know that?" Jeremy demanded.

"There's very little I don't know about you. Don't look that
outraged - I believe there's little you don't know about me as
well. Nice - you saved my life. I owe you one." Billy looked down
Jeremy's body and smiled wolfishly. "I will have to reward you
lavishly."

"Don't talk nonsense. When Molly is down I'll hand you over to the
law. In the meanwhile, enjoy your stay." Jeremy shook his head in
disgust and made to leave.

"Don't be a frigid queen."

"Fuck you!" Jeremy said.

Billy's grin only widened. "Feel free."

Jeremy slammed the door shut behind him.



Billy was moaning in his sleep. Jeremy stood at the doorway in his
trousers and felt pity warring with burning desire. Billy tossed
in his sleep, his thick arm muscles flexing with each flailing of
his arms, his torso glistening with sweat. Then Billy gave a quiet
cry, "Jeremy!"

"I'm here," Jeremy heard himself say. Despite his better
judgement, he took Billy's hand in his. Billy's grip made him
wince, but he ran his other hand through Billy's short dark hair.
"It's okay, I'm here."

Billy's eyes opened, his blue-green eyes darkened with pain.
"Jeremy? I was dreaming of you. And other things. Sleep with me? I
mean, just sleep? I'm not in the mood to be alone."

"That's an understatement if I ever hear one. You're shivering."
Jeremy swallowed, trying to ignore the sight of Billy's hard and
tight curves of his taut buttocks; thankfully Billy turned when he
raised the sheets for Jeremy to get under, shielding his cock from
Jeremy's view.

"I can't persuade you to remove the trousers, can I?" Billy asked.

"It's not a good idea."

"About the trousers?" Billy on purpose misunderstood the remark.

"We are not a good idea," Jeremy said.

Nonetheless, he hesitantly wrapped his right arm around Billy's
shoulder, the touch burning the both of them. Billy's cock pulsed,
hard enough to hammer nails, but Jeremy's touch was as comforting
as it was arousing, and he slept.



Jeremy awoke when he felt warm flesh on him. He slowly came to,
and gasped when he saw Billy lying on him. "Billy? Get off me," he
whispered. Billy was barely awoke, however, and Jeremy doubted the
man knew what he was doing. But the hot swollen cock burning at
Jeremy's tight puckered entrance between his legs told Jeremy that
at least a part of Billy's mind was awake. Billy's hips were
grinding in short thrusts, prodding insistently as Jeremy's gate,
demanding entry.

Jeremy shut his eyes. It had been so long, really too long, and he
missed this. And in Billy's arms he felt the warm tranquility, a
glorious feeling of being protected and adored. He made a quick
decision, hoping the hell that he wouldn't regret it the next
morning. He raised his legs to wrap them carefully around Billy's
torso.

Billy's sudden penetration caught him by surprise. His long-
neglected asshole stretched painfully, wider than he had ever been
stretched before, and Jeremy raised his ass higher to accommodate
the man's coring of his anus. "Oh God!" he choked when Billy's
cock plunged deep, causing every inch of Jeremy's well-packed
rectum to burn. He tightened his hold on that massive cock, his
anal walls so sensitive that he could almost feel the imprint of
the thick pulsing veins in the thick shaft on him. Then Billy
began to pump, savagely withdrawing then ramming home with a loud
smack of pubic bones colliding mingling with the slapping sounds
of flesh tearing flesh. Jeremy cried in pain and need, every
muscle spasming hard, his hips threatening to break Billy's rips
with each of the man's thrust. Despite his inebriated state,
Billy's rhythm was steady, a well-oiled pistoning motion that sent
sparks of pleasure bursting in Jeremy's body with each violent
abrasion of that broad, moist cock crown against Jeremy's pulsing
prostate. Then Jeremy sank his teeth into Billy's shoulder at one
particularly deep thrust, and Billy shuddered, gritting his teeth
as he spasmed; his buttocks tensed in iron hard tautness that
flexed when Jeremy's fingers dug into the groove between them,
then Billy was ejaculating his scalding hot semen in a scorching
rush up Jeremy's aching bunghole, driving the man into his own
private bliss.



"I'm sorry," Billy murmured when Jeremy woke up groggily to the
morning sunlight streaming into the room.

"You're walking," Jeremy said stupidly. He moved his legs, winced
when he felt his anus burned in soreness.

"Nothing like getting a big load off my balls to get me up and
walking again. Besides, someone has to check to see if this place
is safe."

Jeremy shut his eyes and burrowed his face into the pillow,
smelling the fragrance of Billy's hair and delighting in the warm
juices that seeped down his thighs. He rubbed his thighs, letting
Billy's semen spread across his inner skin. "I think I have just
lost your respect," he mumbled.

"What's that? No way." Billy placed a mug of steaming hot coffee
at the desk beside the bed. "I'm not exactly in control of myself
last night. Are you willing?" he asked quietly. "Did I hurt you?"

"I'm quite willing," Jeremy admitted. "Call it temporary
insanity."

"I'm hoping our first fuck would be in a more romantic situation,"
Billy said, getting onto his knees and placing his head on his
right hand as he smiled crookedly at Jeremy. "I imagined
candlelight, violin music, me giving you a diamond-studded
jewelry. Nothing like this. I'm sorry."

"What do you mean 'you imagined'?" Jeremy turned onto his stomach
and looked at Billy face to face.

"I've been planning to court you, get you in bed, the usual. Look
at us, Jeremy. You and I have been practically dating for five
years, much longer than any relationships in our lives. We might
as well fuck - we are practically living with each other."

"That depends on your definition of 'living together'," Jeremy
retorted, trying to bank his exhilaration at Billy's words. "My
ideal relationship is definitely not spending my day trying to
bust the ass of the man I'm sleeping with at night. I will be
ruined if word got out that I'm sleeping with you."

"That means we can still fuck, can't we?" Billy asked, easily
ignoring Jeremy's words.

Jeremy looked at the smooth, darkly-tanned expanse of Billy's
muscular chest, at the increasingly thicker line of hair from his
navel to the thick bush surrounding a penis impressively sized
even in its flaccid state, and felt his own desire rising. "With
that big cock, how can I resist?" he murmured.

Billy chuckled and climbed onto the bed.



"I'll quit my thieving," Billy gasped, thrusting his cock up
Jeremy's wiggling ass. "I'll quit, you hear that Jeremy? I'll
bloody quit and buy us an island and we'll fuck all day and
night."

Jeremy could only groan an incoherent reply. For five days now
Billy had been servicing him, Billy's returning strength only
enhancing the man's seemingly endless stamina.

"Come on Jeremy," Billy said in between pants, "say yes. We'll
leave this place, you and I."

"Oh yes," Jeremy said. "Oh yes," he said then cried out in relief
when Billy's hand closed around his cock. "I'll do anything,
Billy."


THREE

"You're holding me to a dumb promise I made during an orgasm?"
Jeremy asked incredulously.

"Yeah I am. You have a problem with that?

"No. Of course I have a problem with that! I thought we are just
having a one-night stand. Okay, a one-week stand."

"You just have a fucked up problem with commitment."

Ouch. "Look who's talking! You are the fucked-up person here. You
can't even live a normal life. Commitment problem my ass. Excuse
me for being not too eager to join you in being a refugee from
law."

"I said I'll quit."

"That's convincing."

Billy gave a wounded growl and threw the mug of coffee he was
holding across the room. It shattered, causing brown stain to seep
across the carpets. "What do you want from me, Jeremy? Just sex?
That's it? Fine. Spread your legs. You want this cock? Well, fuck
you!" he shouted. He gripped Jeremy's arms and shook him. "I am
willing to change my world for you, Jeremy. The least you can do
is not to fucking laugh at me!"

"I am not laughing at you," Jeremy protested. "I'm - fuck!"

Billy kissed him, hard, until their lips bruised. Then Jeremy
pulled him down to the bed, and Billy was merciless in his
fucking, driving them both to a furious orgasm.



"Touching scene," Molly Hoodkums sneered. "Nothing beats pumping
lead into a couple of fags."

"How the fuck did you get here?" Billy tossed off the sheets and
stood between Jeremy and the man's henchmen.

"Get 'em boys. Kill the other fag first. I want Billy to die
slowly."

Jeremy gave a bored sigh and reached for his belt.



"Remind me never to underestimate you again," Billy said, still
watching in awe when Jeremy tied a cursing Molly with his two men.
"Wow, I mean, with just one belt, against guns and all. It's like
a fucking Indiana Jones movie."

"Shut up. I'm calling the cops. You have ten minutes to get lost."

It dawned on Billy. "You're mad at me."

"Why should I?" Jeremy scowled thunderously.

"Because you think I've put your life in danger." Billy chewed his
lower lip thoughtfully. "Because I'm an irresponsible idiot who
jeopardizes the safety of the people he care for. Because I'm a
reckless idiot?"

"Just go away Billy. Please."

"For now." Billy had never lost a fight in his life and he didn't
intend to start now.




FOUR


"You're miserable." Ethan shuffled the cards.

"I'm not." Jeremy stared at the ceiling.

"You're miserable," Jeff said. "Isn't he, Brian?"

"Definitely miserable."

"I am not miserable!"

Silence. Jeremy was stunned at his own outburst. "I'm not
miserable," he repeated in a voice that just reeked of misery.

"Denial in progress," Ethan remarked.

"Actually, I have news of our friend Billy," Brian said when he
and Jeremy were alone, trying not to smile at the alacrity of
Jeremy's jolt to attention. "He turned himself in to Interpol,
with a bloody cunning condition. He would return what's left of
his loot and stop his activities, and he would work with Seven -
which is an organization fighting against thief ringleaders by the
way. He got a new life without facing a jail term."

"Really? Bloody bastard." Jeremy smiled tightly.



He wasn't surprised to find Billy in his bedroom that night. "I
guess I owe you an apology," he started to say.

"Oh yes you did. You don't have faith in me." Billy stood over the
bed like an avenging angel. "I suggest you get on your knees and
beg for mercy," he said with a nasty grin on his face, casually
unzipping his jeans. "Come here."

Jeremy was always good at apologizing.
