Subject: JADFE: "A Moment Too Soon"
Date: Wed, 16 Sep 1998 02:33:50 EDT
From: TheLadyT@aol.com
To: Jadfe@jbx.com

Anti-UnSuiteds should turn back now--this is a LaCroix/Schanke tale.  Yup, it's m/m, and explicit.

You have been warned (eg).

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the Forever Knight characters, and I'm definitely not making any
money off of this; I only intend to borrow LaCroix and Schanke for a little while.  I never attended
Bridging the Knight, I *hope* to see JK and NB interact at the 1998 Toronto Auction, and I
loved all the Unsuited fiction.  My only concrete inspiration for this tale is the fact that I am
currently the Custodian of the Sacred Coke Can.  Many thanks to Julia and Leslie GS for their
advice, beta-ing, and for allowing me to continue with their idea in "Bridging the Gap."  (For those
who have read "Bridging the Gap," this is sorta Schanke's revenge for LaCroix's giggle.)

Permission to archive at JADFE.

"A Moment Too Soon"
An Unsuited Story
by Lora Conk

Don looked up from his kneeling position in front of LaCroix.  He choked out a laugh, but it just
hurt so damn much!  "Major boner," was all he could say.

Schanke felt a gentle hand touch his face, his brown eyes met icy-blue ones, "Come," said a voice
that touched his soul more deeply than anything he'd experienced.

His mind exploded as his body obeyed.  All the tension and stress of the weekend left him as he
convulsed in the small confines between the seats of the airplane.  The gentle hand holding his
chin with such kindness filled him with peace as his come filled his shorts.

******

Don jerked awake.  "Damn," he said, checking his groin as he had every time he awoke from
that dream.  He surveyed his surroundings as he absent-mindedly rubbed himself.  He was home
and in his living room.  The television quietly showed a morning talk show.  Don grabbed the
remote and turned it off.  Again, he'd fallen asleep after Jenny had taken off for school and Myra
left for work.  "Man oh man," he said to the ceiling as he leaned back in the lazy-boy.  "I *hate*
that dream!"

As he moved to get up, he suddenly realized he only had one hand available.  He looked down
at himself to see that his other hand was gripping a stiff erection through his pajama bottoms.
"Geez!" he cried, jerking his hand away.

******

LaCroix continued the lazy massage of his stiff member.  Even after three weeks, he was still
amazed at the inadvertent connection he'd established with his son's partner through that one
blow-job on their plane ride back from that dreadful auction.  Many a morning he'd enjoyed
peeking in on the detective's erotic dream--the abbreviated fellatio scenario followed by an
ever-expanding version of the climax experienced as LaCroix held that bumpkin's face.

Almost every morning as LaCroix would retire with a good book he would soon feel a tickling
in his groin; he could ignore it, but usually he didn't.  As soon as the old vampire touched
himself, the connection would begin, but each time Schanke's dream would end before LaCroix
could fulfill himself.

‘Not this morning,' the old vampire thought to himself.  Three weeks of "almost" was becoming
an irritation.  This morning, he knew, he *would* have satisfaction.

LaCroix gently held the link open.  He could feel Don's erection almost as well as he could feel
his own.  The man was helpless to his desires, LaCroix realized.  ‘Good,' the vampire thought,
‘I can use that.'

******

Schanke staggered toward the bathroom next to his bedroom, one hand gently holding the
painful boner as he moved.  He hadn't had a piss-hard that hurt this bad in a long time.  ‘God,
I *hope* that's all this is,' he thought as those haunting, icy-blue eyes flickered before his vision.

He flipped the toilet lid up, then untied the string on his pajama bottoms.  Bending over to aim
as best he could into the bowl, Schanke pushed, yet only a little bit of urine escaped before he
gave up, realizing that he was still fondling himself.

Sweat soaked Don as it occurred to him what he had to do next.  He kicked off his slippers
and pajama bottoms and flushed the toilet, then he turned toward the shower.  He spied Myra's peppermint-scented liquid soap.  A smile crossed his face as he remembered how many times
he'd used that to take care of a hard-on after Myra had left for work.

Don adjusted the water in the shower, then reached for the liquid soap.  He turned his back to
the spray as he applied a big squirt directly on his dick.  As his hand began to work the soap
over the aching head, around the shaft, and onto his balls, a voice in his head said, "Slowly,
now.  Gently."  Schanke shuddered as he realized who's voice that was.

‘Man-oh-man, Donnie-boy, that dream's makin' you nuts!' he thought, remembering a few
times he'd gotten stiff while listening to the Nightcrawler.  Fear mixed with desire gripped him
as he gave in to a fantasy.

******

He stood naked before the omnipotent dj.  "What do you want me to do?" he asked
helplessly.

"Come here," the resonant voice commanded.

Don moved toward that irresistible voice.  The dj towered over him.  "Uh, sir?" Don asked,
afraid of what his bidding would be.

Icy blue eyes regarded Don.  No smile touched that face as the man then placed a gentle
hand on Don's exposed cock, as a reward for obedience.  "Good boy," the voice said.

Suddenly the Nightcrawler's clothes fell away from him as he turned Don around--Don got
the barest glimpse of something *really* big and quickly averted his eyes, turning his back
to him.  A low step-stool appeared in front of Don and he obediently stood on it.  The
omnipotent dj's massive cock slid between Don's legs and tickled his balls.  Don
suppressed a shudder, thanking god that the huge dick went there rather than another option.

"Very good," said the silky voice in Don's ear.  The Nightcrawler's hand began to fondle
Don's cock.  Don leaned his head back helplessly, resting it on the big man's shoulder,
surrendering to the sensations.  "Yes," the voice purred in his ear, "let me do this for you."

The enormous dick began to move between Don's legs as the hand began to slowly stroke
his cock.  With each thrust, as the head of that great being's cock touched Don's balls,
lightening flashed in his helpless mind.  He moaned in anticipation of the Nightcrawler's
climax, longing for the come of that god-like voice to coat his balls.  Gentle fingers teased
Don's erection, holding him off until the final moment.

******

Schanke's come coated the wall of the shower as he groaned out load.  His legs felt rubbery
as he leaned himself against the side of the stall.  "Son-of-a-bitch!" he said in a shaky voice.

******

The vampire roared his frustration, hitting the satin sheets on the bed with one fist as the
other continued its ministrations, yet the snarling vampire knew the stroking was pointless--
the fantasy was destroyed with Schanke's prematurity.  The beast howled in rage and
aggravation as his head beat a few times into his pillow in time with his fist hitting the sheets.

He'd come so close.  He was almost there.  Damn that bumbling sod for denying him by
coming too soon!

LaCroix stilled himself long enough to unclench his fist.  Thin rivulets of blood marked
where his nails had punctured the skin of his palm.  He angrily grabbed the book he'd
been reading earlier and threw it across the room.  The vampire leaned his head back
against the pillows, his eyes closed tight in frustration.  He placed his hands flat against the
sheet and took several controlled breaths to ease the tension from himself.  This was
definitely the worst it had been since that fateful plane ride.

LaCroix's mind recalled the initial feel of Schanke's warm lips so gently encircling the head
of his cold phallus.

"Tomorrow," he finally muttered softly.  "Tomorrow."

-fin-

Comments gladly accepted at theladyt@aol.com; please include marshmallows
with flames, and remember that chocolate is always appreciated.