by Katsura and Yuramei
Genre: yaoi, gangster, humour
Authors: Katsura, Yuramei
Cover art: Yuramei
Editor: P.M. Leckie
First published: February 2014
ISBN-10: 1495964612 / ISBN-13: 978-1495964619
There is nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose.
In a small Scottish town, near the gateway to the Highlands, a bunch of reprobates are trying to come to terms with the return of their brutal boss.
Out of the nick, and straight into the arms of a brothel keeper, Fergus Campbell is a man with a mission:
To get back at the bastard who got him locked up the first place. Will a grudge that's being stewing for five years result in the end for the Everdirge boys?
Hugo, the devious alcoholic.
Vinny, a heart of gold and unwaveringly loyal.
And Judas MacGregor, lovable chancer and incorrigible sex-addict.
Meet them all in Kastura & Yuramei's wild ride of sex, violence, black-comedy and full-on Yaoi.
This book was first published in 2012 under the title “Big Deal Vol. 1: Lust for Vengeance”. This is an extensively re-edited and reworked version, presented to be in keeping with Katsura and Yuramei’s current work.
A carbuncle is like a boil. A pus-filled blot on the skin which left untreated, can leave a huge, gaping hole. An infectious pit of bacteria that can easily spread to other parts of the body.
It’s also the name given to one of the most undesirable awards in the field of architecture and town planning. Every year, some dreary splat on the map is presented with the miserable honour of being the most dismal place in Scotland.
Everdirge, having no redeeming features, no now-famous sons or no world-renowned daughters, was exempt from nomination. So dire, that it was considered as unfair for the population to be saddled with the ignominy on top of everything else they had to put with.
Yes. It was a shite spot to live in.
But naturally, like most places, it was home to some haves as well a whole pile of have-nots. Those blessed with a better lot in life, but still cursed to tread the murky cobbled streets, called the town, Glory.
They fooled no one. Call a wart a beauty spot. Title a shed a summer house.
Glory was still Everdirge and Everdirge was fucking hole.
* * * * *
The music emanating from the CD player did little to heighten the mood for the activities on the large, rumpled bed. The blinds were drawn. No natural light illuminated the seedy proceedings and the warmth of the late summer evening added to the cloying nature of the musky odours already permeating the air.
The room was basic and untidy enough to scream “bachelor pad”. No pictures graced the walls or any other surface, but the few items of furniture around the place bore the appearance of quality and smacked of luxury, if not taste.
The brass nameplate on the door read J. MacGregor, under which the words fuck you had been gouged deep into the wood.
J for Judas.
Judas was his real name, but most people presumed this to be nickname. Something that perhaps alluded to a betraying nature. His mother told him he was named after his father. A man he’d never known. She’d practically spit this information, usually in a drunken slur, when she attempted to drown her sorrows in a few bottles of cheap wine.
“I named you for that bastard who knocked me up. I took one look at you and saw that Judas.”
In his youth, the statement had always puzzled him. Unlike the classic portrayal of the much maligned apostle as a hook-nosed dark-haired man, with what Mrs MacGregor would have described as a sleekit expression, this Judas, who not surprisingly preferred to be called Jude, had fair hair and blue eyes. Lately, he'd noticed that he was turning prematurely grey, but the accent in colour didn’t seem to age him. The highlights through the collar-length, loose waves, coupled with the piercing eyes, actually made him quite attractive. His most noticeable feature, a wide full mouth, slipped easily into a smile, usually in lust or with wicked humour.
Judas slid a second finger next to his first, which was already nestled inside the invitingly tight ass of some sweet twenty-year-old. He parted the digits slightly then looked up into his cheap date’s face. The guy’s expression changed to one of need as Judas attempted to make more ready, a task rendered easier by the fact that he was already primed with so much lube. He was obviously no virgin. Not judging from the way he’d so eagerly spread his legs. But after listening to him whine about being ruined when the first attempted to enter him was made using spit alone, out came the trusty tube of the wet stuff.
“Chill out, baby. I won’t hurt you, unless you want me to…”
“Just do it, please!” His name was Rory, but that was just an unimportant detail. Everyone was baby to Judas. Calling them all by the same pet name had saved him from many an awkward moment, as in the heat of passion, to cry out the wrong one was considered as bad manners. If everyone was baby, no one was any the wiser.
“Okay.” He grinned. “You’re the boss.”
Judas slowly slid his fingers from the promising grip, then moved to lie between Rory’s thighs. He wiped his hand on the sheet before rubbing the sheathed tip of his cock against the now slick entrance and penetrated the small opening with relative ease.
He returned to his scrutiny of the guy’s face. Rory’s lips parted wider, and Judas glanced from the pretty mouth to the rigid cock he’d spent the last hour or so teasing mercilessly. First with his fingers and then with his tongue. It strained in readiness to burst at any moment. The head glistened with a pearl of fluid which then leaked slowly, and somewhat hypnotically, down the swollen shaft. With meticulous cruelty, Judas ran his finger through the drip and traced it back up over Rory’s hot skin. He then slid his cock in a fraction of an inch more, still intent on playing his little teasing game until the guy ruined it by boldly grasping his hips and practically engulfing the lot of him.
“God, you’re a keen little fucker, aren’t you?” Judas growled. He pushed Rory further onto his back and ran his hands over his smooth thighs to raise them up and part them against his thin chest, so allowing for deeper penetration.
If he wanted it all, he was going to get it.
Persuading the scruffy little red-head to join him in bed had been far too easy. Whatever happened to playing hard to get? He’d taken one look at the expensive jewellery Judas wore, then practically fell to his knees on the spot. Obviously his keenness was not a bad thing, but totally dispensing with the need for at least a pretence of seduction spoiled the thrill of the chase.
Normally the haste in which they’d gone from having a drink in the local dive of a pub, to screwing on an unmade scratcher, wouldn’t have been a cause for lament, but Judas was having one of those nights. The times he’d come to call his nobody loves me moments.
No matter how good-looking he was, Judas MacGregor had never actually slept with anyone who gave a toss about him.
“Slow down… slow down…” Rory gritted his teeth as Judas suddenly quickened the pace of his hips.
The guy’s timing couldn’t have been more off and Judas held still for a moment, his irritation barely in check. “Make your mind up, baby. You're putting me off. Just enjoy it…” He raised Rory practically clean off the sheets as he hit hard against him again. They each made a loud grunt on impact and a shiver of pleasure coursed through Judas’s groin. He savoured the sensation then repeated the action of his hips. “Yeah… fuck yeah…”
Rory trembled, his shoulders now the only part of him still in contact with the bed. He arched his back and reached to clutch at the sheets, the remnants of cheap nail polish visible on his nails. Judas leaned over him, his breath harsh and rhythmic. His hair dripped sweat, which splashed on Rory’s cheek as he let go of the sheet and grasped Judas’s slim hips instead, grinding his own in time with them.
“God,” Rory’s voice, which brimmed with urgency, became louder, while the CD skipped a beat and began to stutter its way through to the next song.
In revenge for the guy breaking his stride before, Judas let out a growl and withdrew. He looked down into Rory’s face and grabbed him by the waist. Rory stared up at him, cheeks flushed.
Rory, although visibly annoyed, did as he was told without complaint. He turned and propped on all fours, his head bowed. A soft hiss whispered from between his teeth as he was once more entered with force.
“You like it? Huh?” Judas yanked him into an upright position, raised one of his legs and whispered into his ear, “You like it like this?”
“Y-yes!” Rory cried out as his cock was encircled by Judas’s fingers, the taut skin pumped up and down within the grasp of his fist.
“God, you're so tight…” He first licked Rory's earlobe then took it gently between his teeth, his breath hot against the salty skin.
“Ah! Ah! I'm gonna—” Rory let out a long moan and Judas quickened the pace of his fingers and hips.
Suddenly, from somewhere behind them, there came a familiar clicking sound. Judas froze. His eyes, which had been previously heavy lidded with lust, snapped wide open.
He was about to turn, but stopped when he felt the cold steel of a gun press to the back of his head.