Categories > Comics > Sin City
Illicit
By Rogue_Nation
Disclaimer: No profit is being made of this piece of work.
Summary: John Hartigan and Nancy spend the night together.
Rating: NC-17
She told me to come closer.
That this wasn't going to hurt.
I wanted to believe her.
My head is pounding and I'm aching for aspirin.
I feel her stir next to me. Her naked skin is damp and cool against mine. She mumbles something, before snuggling her head closer to my neck. Another sigh of content. And that's all it takes to bring me back to myself.
John Hartigan, I chastise, what the hell are you doing? Or, to be more precise, what the hell did you do?
What I remember is fragmented, like bits and parts of a dream that seemed too sweet to be true. But she was here. Skinny little Nancy Callahan. Skinny grown up Nancy Callahan. 19 years old. She was here.
All too real. Everything was too goddamn real.
It's real enough to make me feel like hurling from the guilt.
Dirty old man.
She purrs.
Goddamn dirty old man.
I'm reminded of 10 year old Nancy at the docks that fateful night.
Roark. That goddamn son of a bitch. Didn't think would touch him, huh? I'm sure he thought otherwise after a few well placed bullets from my handgun.
God, baby, don't watch.
But she does. I can feel it. I'm too far gone. No regrets, just a twisted sense of satisfaction as I blow off his crotch. Sex is a privilege you'd just lost, Roark.
He screams bloody hell. It's moments like this that I live for.
My triumph is cut short and I fall forward.
I've been shot.
Fucken corrupt cops. Can't trust no one. Not even your goddamn partner.
Bad memories though. They have a way of finding you.
I close my eyes again. My life seemed like a series of bad choices at this moment. Marrying. Becoming a cop in this godforsaken city.
The one thing I did right in my whole life was saving Nancy. That was the one thing that defined my worth as a human being. And I had to go and ruin it.
Horny old man, move!
I look over at Nancy. Her limbs were tangled with mine. Extracting myself from this was going to be difficult. But I didn't have a choice. I can't stay. Not like this.
Just a child, my head screams out to me.
I feel dirty. I need a shower.
I hold my breath as I slowly pry her arms and then her legs from my body. She whimpers. Her face crunches up and she looks like she's about to cry.
I give her the pillow I was lying on. She holds tightly onto it. I kneel next to bed, watching her as she slowly relaxes once again. Her lips curl up into a smile. Sweet and innocent. Complete surrender.
Her chest rises with every breath, every precious heartbeat. I can feel tears.
Unworthy.
I bring my hands, those aged and well worn hands, to my face and wipe away the tears before they fall.
The jacket's hanging on the chair. It catches my eyes. I walk over and reach into the pocket. The gun was still there. I move over to the door and check the lock. Secure.
I can't let my guard down again. Have to be careful now.
"Hartigan?"
She calls to me.
I don't turn around. I know she's looking at me.
"Go back to sleep."
"Come back to bed," she chides. Her voice is hoarse from waking so early, but still sultry, laced with a seductiveness that I can never describe. She doesn't even have to try.
I grimace when I realize that I'm stark naked.
How disgusting, old man.
I think of the wrinkles. Love handles. White hair. Droopy skin. Fat where there shouldn't be any.
"Are you okay?" she asks, concerned.
My pant is next to the jacket.
I grab them and put them on. "Yeah," I say, "just sleep."
"Hartigan, please..." she begins. There's longing in her voice. I frown.
Don't look at her, Hartigan. Whatever you do, don't you dare look at her.
I grab the jacket, fling it to the floor and sit down. Just breath deeply, I told myself.
"So?"
"Yeah?"
"You just going to sit there?" I can feel her smirk. She's toying with me.
I don't look up. "I'm fine over here."
"It's going to get cold."
I don't answer.
"You'll be warmer over here."
It continues like that for minutes. Her chiding me. Me telling her to leave me alone. That I was fine. She keeps it up, playfully.
Women. They really just don't know when to quit.
I get angry. Can't understand why she won't leave me alone. I don't want to touch her. I don't want to soil her. At least...not any further.
"Look! Just..." I stop, my words catching in my throat.
I could see Nancy very clearly. She's sitting up, the pillows propped behind her. The blanket that I had covered her with minutes ago was shrugged off.
I close my eyes. It was too much. Why the hell did I look up?
"Hartigan?"
My heart is pounding in my chest. It's overworking itself tonight.
"Yes?" I grit my teeth when I hear her getting off the bed. My heart makes a painful contraction.
I pray to god she isn't walking towards me.
I grip my chest. I'm perspiring like a madman.
She calls my name, concerned.
"Stop! I'm okay. Really."
I'm not. Damn heart.
I hold out my hand, trying to prevent her from getting nearer. Of course it doesn't work. Her hand feels icy cold against my cheeks. I automatically recoil away from her touch, but she reaches out with her other hand and gently cradles the back of my head.
I can't get away.
"Nancy!" I'm angry at being cornered.
I feel her lips on my cheeks. Hot and soft. She presses more kisses there as her free hand draws a line down my chest. She stops and spreads her palm over my heart.
I can make out her words in between her kisses, "I love this heart."
She laps out her tongue, tasting my sweat. Her breathing quickened.
I could tell what she was after.
"Nancy, please..." I beg her. My voice was shaky. God, I'm shaking so hard.
She kisses the corners of my mouth. "Please, what?" I can feel her smile.
"Just stop," my voice is barely above a whisper. She stops.
My knuckles are white. I'm gripping the arms of the chair too tightly. I don't breath.
Relax, John. Just don't look at her. Don't look at her, Hartigan.
I remind myself that I'm in control.
Breath. Cold showers. Cold showers. Cold showers.
It's a mantra. I feel myself calming down.
She stopped and I thanked all my gods. I hear her rummaging around in her purse, but all I can think about is how much I'm still shaking. How I'm sitting her covered in cold sweat.
I release the breath I'm holding and toss my head back. Relief washing gratefully over me.
I should've known how determine Nancy was.
She straddles me, her legs on either side of the chair. Her arms hooked over the chair, trapping me again. I feel her lips on me. More kisses.
I open my mouth at the surprise attack and she takes advantage of it. She wraps an arm around my neck and I can feel her desperation. Her moans muffle my protest as her hips grounded against mine. Each grind earns another sound from her. I could hear a symphony of soft gasps and heavy breathing. I find, to my dismay, the sounds were coming from me.
It's a steady and hypnotizing rhythm.
I'm dizzy.
Stop. Old man. You have to stop.
Too late. The blood's rushing from my head.
Her other hand snakes around my back and wraps me. There's something in her hand. It's small, and pressing into my back.
It doesn't take me long to realize that it was a condom. Her intentions were clear.
No! Not again!
My eyes snap open.
She was nuzzling my neck, groaning softly. "God, Hartigan."
Her left hand grabs mine, and places it on her hip, helping her guide the rhythm.
I grip her hard. Enough to bruise.
I can't think.
She throws her head back, her neck exposed to me. Vulnerable. Trusting.
I can't stop myself. I lean forward, against all sane thought, and taste that beautiful neck of hers.
She lets out a moan of approval, and grinds her hip harder against me when I bite down on the spot between her neck and shoulders.
It's too much. It's more than I can bear.
I grab her, both hands. They wander greedily behind her back. Nancy tilts her head down, grabs my chin and kisses me.
Hard and rough. She slips her tongue past my lips and flicks it against the roof of my mouth. I'm tasting her.
More moans, strangled from both of us as Nancy continues.
My resolve breaks.
I grab her up. She lets out a gasp in surprise as I take her with me.
Her backs on the floor, the chair is kicked back, also on the floor. She giggles when I stop to catch my breath.
I look at her. Her playful eyes were dark and heavy. "Come and get it, Hartigan."
I can't move. Nancy.
She reaches up and pulls me down, into another kiss.
Just a kid.
Her hands reaches down to unzip my fly. There's still enough sanity left in me to stop her.
She ceases her kisses and trains her eyes on me, trying to read me. I can see her silently mouthing the words "let me" as she slowly lowers her hand. Her fingers grab a hold of the zipper.
I can't stop looking at her as she bites her lips down in desire. "Come on," she whispers, "give a little..." Her eyes narrow mischievously before adding, "...baby."
She rolls me over and moves down. I hold my breath. I can't watch.
This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong...
...Then why am I letting her do this.
She grabs the pants and slips them off of me.
She leans ontop of me and looks at me, regarding me coolly.
"Nancy," her name escapes from my lips, like a prayer.
"Tell me you want this," she puts the condom between her teeth.
"I..."
I can't tell her. I can never tell her.
I've hurt her.
She shakes away the disappointment and, instead, rips open the condom. Her eyes focused on the task at hand.
She moves downward and licks me before placing the condom on.
She straddles my stomach and I can feel how wet she is. She starts up a rhythm again and uses me to pleasure herself.
Another sharp moan from her.
At that moment, I felt no universe besides her.
I wanted her. Bad. And she could tell.
I'm aching.
Nancy moves down and readies herself for my entry.
I feel her tense.
She looks at me, her eyes brimming over with love.
"Help me,"
I don't hesitate. I place my two hands over her hips and guide her down.
A gasp, followed up by a long moan. I bite back a groan as I feel her closing around me. Unbearable pleasure spiking up within me. She was so ready, so tight.
She throws her head back. Her hair's wild.
Finally, we're together.
Her chest is heaving up and down. I can tell she's feeling it. Her muscles clench and unclench around me.
After a moment she puts her arm on my shoulder, her face flushed red with desire. She's shaking.
"I love you," she tells me, every word heartfelt.
I let her move. Up and down. Taking every bit of me with her. Leaving me wanting more.
Higher. Higher.
She's gasping. Her movements were getting faster. I have to keep up. She moaning.
"God..." her voice strangles in her throat.
She looks at me pleadingly. I realize she wanted me to help her.
Love's too overwhelming a command to ignore.
I grab her down and kiss her hard before rolling her onto her back.
It's what she needed. She wraps her legs tightly around me. She's clawing me now. Her nails dig deep. Scratches.
I move in and out. Faster, she urges. Harder, she begs.
I comply.
The sheen of sweat covered her and I bury my face in her hair. Never once breaking the rhythm.
She cries.
I'm breath her in deeply. Everything. Her hair, her perfume, her sex, her essence.
She sobbing now.
"Baby," I whisper, choked with emotions I can't hold back.
Her breathe hitches. She's coming. I can tell.
"Oh god! Oh god!"
I watch her as she comes.
"Don't stop, Hartigan!" More hitches. She's coming again. "I..."
Closer.
I'm not stopping. I don't want to stop. I couldn't stop.
I pound against her harder, gripping her.
"Nancy. Please."
She's calling to me again. I can't hold back.
Closer. Closer.
I snap.
My world shatters and I'm plunged into darkness. All I can do is feel more intensely than I've ever had before. The pain, the regrets, the years, everything vanishes. Only she remains.
When I came to Nancy's arms were around me, cradling me gently as she rocked me back and forth. She's whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
I can make out what she's saying.
"It's ok," she tells me and I realize that I've been crying.
We stay that way for a long time. On that cold wooden floor.
I can feel her breathing.
By Rogue_Nation
Disclaimer: No profit is being made of this piece of work.
Summary: John Hartigan and Nancy spend the night together.
Rating: NC-17
She told me to come closer.
That this wasn't going to hurt.
I wanted to believe her.
My head is pounding and I'm aching for aspirin.
I feel her stir next to me. Her naked skin is damp and cool against mine. She mumbles something, before snuggling her head closer to my neck. Another sigh of content. And that's all it takes to bring me back to myself.
John Hartigan, I chastise, what the hell are you doing? Or, to be more precise, what the hell did you do?
What I remember is fragmented, like bits and parts of a dream that seemed too sweet to be true. But she was here. Skinny little Nancy Callahan. Skinny grown up Nancy Callahan. 19 years old. She was here.
All too real. Everything was too goddamn real.
It's real enough to make me feel like hurling from the guilt.
Dirty old man.
She purrs.
Goddamn dirty old man.
I'm reminded of 10 year old Nancy at the docks that fateful night.
Roark. That goddamn son of a bitch. Didn't think would touch him, huh? I'm sure he thought otherwise after a few well placed bullets from my handgun.
God, baby, don't watch.
But she does. I can feel it. I'm too far gone. No regrets, just a twisted sense of satisfaction as I blow off his crotch. Sex is a privilege you'd just lost, Roark.
He screams bloody hell. It's moments like this that I live for.
My triumph is cut short and I fall forward.
I've been shot.
Fucken corrupt cops. Can't trust no one. Not even your goddamn partner.
Bad memories though. They have a way of finding you.
I close my eyes again. My life seemed like a series of bad choices at this moment. Marrying. Becoming a cop in this godforsaken city.
The one thing I did right in my whole life was saving Nancy. That was the one thing that defined my worth as a human being. And I had to go and ruin it.
Horny old man, move!
I look over at Nancy. Her limbs were tangled with mine. Extracting myself from this was going to be difficult. But I didn't have a choice. I can't stay. Not like this.
Just a child, my head screams out to me.
I feel dirty. I need a shower.
I hold my breath as I slowly pry her arms and then her legs from my body. She whimpers. Her face crunches up and she looks like she's about to cry.
I give her the pillow I was lying on. She holds tightly onto it. I kneel next to bed, watching her as she slowly relaxes once again. Her lips curl up into a smile. Sweet and innocent. Complete surrender.
Her chest rises with every breath, every precious heartbeat. I can feel tears.
Unworthy.
I bring my hands, those aged and well worn hands, to my face and wipe away the tears before they fall.
The jacket's hanging on the chair. It catches my eyes. I walk over and reach into the pocket. The gun was still there. I move over to the door and check the lock. Secure.
I can't let my guard down again. Have to be careful now.
"Hartigan?"
She calls to me.
I don't turn around. I know she's looking at me.
"Go back to sleep."
"Come back to bed," she chides. Her voice is hoarse from waking so early, but still sultry, laced with a seductiveness that I can never describe. She doesn't even have to try.
I grimace when I realize that I'm stark naked.
How disgusting, old man.
I think of the wrinkles. Love handles. White hair. Droopy skin. Fat where there shouldn't be any.
"Are you okay?" she asks, concerned.
My pant is next to the jacket.
I grab them and put them on. "Yeah," I say, "just sleep."
"Hartigan, please..." she begins. There's longing in her voice. I frown.
Don't look at her, Hartigan. Whatever you do, don't you dare look at her.
I grab the jacket, fling it to the floor and sit down. Just breath deeply, I told myself.
"So?"
"Yeah?"
"You just going to sit there?" I can feel her smirk. She's toying with me.
I don't look up. "I'm fine over here."
"It's going to get cold."
I don't answer.
"You'll be warmer over here."
It continues like that for minutes. Her chiding me. Me telling her to leave me alone. That I was fine. She keeps it up, playfully.
Women. They really just don't know when to quit.
I get angry. Can't understand why she won't leave me alone. I don't want to touch her. I don't want to soil her. At least...not any further.
"Look! Just..." I stop, my words catching in my throat.
I could see Nancy very clearly. She's sitting up, the pillows propped behind her. The blanket that I had covered her with minutes ago was shrugged off.
I close my eyes. It was too much. Why the hell did I look up?
"Hartigan?"
My heart is pounding in my chest. It's overworking itself tonight.
"Yes?" I grit my teeth when I hear her getting off the bed. My heart makes a painful contraction.
I pray to god she isn't walking towards me.
I grip my chest. I'm perspiring like a madman.
She calls my name, concerned.
"Stop! I'm okay. Really."
I'm not. Damn heart.
I hold out my hand, trying to prevent her from getting nearer. Of course it doesn't work. Her hand feels icy cold against my cheeks. I automatically recoil away from her touch, but she reaches out with her other hand and gently cradles the back of my head.
I can't get away.
"Nancy!" I'm angry at being cornered.
I feel her lips on my cheeks. Hot and soft. She presses more kisses there as her free hand draws a line down my chest. She stops and spreads her palm over my heart.
I can make out her words in between her kisses, "I love this heart."
She laps out her tongue, tasting my sweat. Her breathing quickened.
I could tell what she was after.
"Nancy, please..." I beg her. My voice was shaky. God, I'm shaking so hard.
She kisses the corners of my mouth. "Please, what?" I can feel her smile.
"Just stop," my voice is barely above a whisper. She stops.
My knuckles are white. I'm gripping the arms of the chair too tightly. I don't breath.
Relax, John. Just don't look at her. Don't look at her, Hartigan.
I remind myself that I'm in control.
Breath. Cold showers. Cold showers. Cold showers.
It's a mantra. I feel myself calming down.
She stopped and I thanked all my gods. I hear her rummaging around in her purse, but all I can think about is how much I'm still shaking. How I'm sitting her covered in cold sweat.
I release the breath I'm holding and toss my head back. Relief washing gratefully over me.
I should've known how determine Nancy was.
She straddles me, her legs on either side of the chair. Her arms hooked over the chair, trapping me again. I feel her lips on me. More kisses.
I open my mouth at the surprise attack and she takes advantage of it. She wraps an arm around my neck and I can feel her desperation. Her moans muffle my protest as her hips grounded against mine. Each grind earns another sound from her. I could hear a symphony of soft gasps and heavy breathing. I find, to my dismay, the sounds were coming from me.
It's a steady and hypnotizing rhythm.
I'm dizzy.
Stop. Old man. You have to stop.
Too late. The blood's rushing from my head.
Her other hand snakes around my back and wraps me. There's something in her hand. It's small, and pressing into my back.
It doesn't take me long to realize that it was a condom. Her intentions were clear.
No! Not again!
My eyes snap open.
She was nuzzling my neck, groaning softly. "God, Hartigan."
Her left hand grabs mine, and places it on her hip, helping her guide the rhythm.
I grip her hard. Enough to bruise.
I can't think.
She throws her head back, her neck exposed to me. Vulnerable. Trusting.
I can't stop myself. I lean forward, against all sane thought, and taste that beautiful neck of hers.
She lets out a moan of approval, and grinds her hip harder against me when I bite down on the spot between her neck and shoulders.
It's too much. It's more than I can bear.
I grab her, both hands. They wander greedily behind her back. Nancy tilts her head down, grabs my chin and kisses me.
Hard and rough. She slips her tongue past my lips and flicks it against the roof of my mouth. I'm tasting her.
More moans, strangled from both of us as Nancy continues.
My resolve breaks.
I grab her up. She lets out a gasp in surprise as I take her with me.
Her backs on the floor, the chair is kicked back, also on the floor. She giggles when I stop to catch my breath.
I look at her. Her playful eyes were dark and heavy. "Come and get it, Hartigan."
I can't move. Nancy.
She reaches up and pulls me down, into another kiss.
Just a kid.
Her hands reaches down to unzip my fly. There's still enough sanity left in me to stop her.
She ceases her kisses and trains her eyes on me, trying to read me. I can see her silently mouthing the words "let me" as she slowly lowers her hand. Her fingers grab a hold of the zipper.
I can't stop looking at her as she bites her lips down in desire. "Come on," she whispers, "give a little..." Her eyes narrow mischievously before adding, "...baby."
She rolls me over and moves down. I hold my breath. I can't watch.
This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong...
...Then why am I letting her do this.
She grabs the pants and slips them off of me.
She leans ontop of me and looks at me, regarding me coolly.
"Nancy," her name escapes from my lips, like a prayer.
"Tell me you want this," she puts the condom between her teeth.
"I..."
I can't tell her. I can never tell her.
I've hurt her.
She shakes away the disappointment and, instead, rips open the condom. Her eyes focused on the task at hand.
She moves downward and licks me before placing the condom on.
She straddles my stomach and I can feel how wet she is. She starts up a rhythm again and uses me to pleasure herself.
Another sharp moan from her.
At that moment, I felt no universe besides her.
I wanted her. Bad. And she could tell.
I'm aching.
Nancy moves down and readies herself for my entry.
I feel her tense.
She looks at me, her eyes brimming over with love.
"Help me,"
I don't hesitate. I place my two hands over her hips and guide her down.
A gasp, followed up by a long moan. I bite back a groan as I feel her closing around me. Unbearable pleasure spiking up within me. She was so ready, so tight.
She throws her head back. Her hair's wild.
Finally, we're together.
Her chest is heaving up and down. I can tell she's feeling it. Her muscles clench and unclench around me.
After a moment she puts her arm on my shoulder, her face flushed red with desire. She's shaking.
"I love you," she tells me, every word heartfelt.
I let her move. Up and down. Taking every bit of me with her. Leaving me wanting more.
Higher. Higher.
She's gasping. Her movements were getting faster. I have to keep up. She moaning.
"God..." her voice strangles in her throat.
She looks at me pleadingly. I realize she wanted me to help her.
Love's too overwhelming a command to ignore.
I grab her down and kiss her hard before rolling her onto her back.
It's what she needed. She wraps her legs tightly around me. She's clawing me now. Her nails dig deep. Scratches.
I move in and out. Faster, she urges. Harder, she begs.
I comply.
The sheen of sweat covered her and I bury my face in her hair. Never once breaking the rhythm.
She cries.
I'm breath her in deeply. Everything. Her hair, her perfume, her sex, her essence.
She sobbing now.
"Baby," I whisper, choked with emotions I can't hold back.
Her breathe hitches. She's coming. I can tell.
"Oh god! Oh god!"
I watch her as she comes.
"Don't stop, Hartigan!" More hitches. She's coming again. "I..."
Closer.
I'm not stopping. I don't want to stop. I couldn't stop.
I pound against her harder, gripping her.
"Nancy. Please."
She's calling to me again. I can't hold back.
Closer. Closer.
I snap.
My world shatters and I'm plunged into darkness. All I can do is feel more intensely than I've ever had before. The pain, the regrets, the years, everything vanishes. Only she remains.
When I came to Nancy's arms were around me, cradling me gently as she rocked me back and forth. She's whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
I can make out what she's saying.
"It's ok," she tells me and I realize that I've been crying.
We stay that way for a long time. On that cold wooden floor.
I can feel her breathing.
Sign up to rate and review this story