Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Disclaimer. These stories are intended for adult viewing only. The characters in the stories are based on real people but all situation's described are purely fantasy. The majority of my fiction thus far revolves around Peter Doherty and Carl Barat of The Libertines / Baby shambles . Other Band fiction's will be posted soon, The Strokes amongst others. There are homo-erotic themes as well as some BDSM. Feel free to get in touch if there is anyone you would specifically like included in a fiction and I will see what I can do, feedback and hate mail also to the same E-Mail - xl_libertine_lx@yahoo.comJ Enjoy , Lucy xxx ...'kin prick , Carl muttered under his breath as his baby blues followed the familiar figure of his "mate" across the room ...feeling the bile rise in his throat as the gangly figure flopped unsteadily next to some nameless has-been-queen , throwing an arm around his shoulder , lips pressing close up against the old wankers ear ..eyes lidded in a drunken haze, skin covered with a thin layer of perspiration. Carl felt his heart thud hard once behind his rib cage then up-a pace making him catch his breath as his sharp eyes caught the hand of the old queer reach to his inner jacket pocket and then slide something into the pocket of Pete's jeans...Carls eyes narrowed as he watched the hand withdraw but linger. Lowering itself first to Pete's hip. Testing for a reaction. Then moving across... almost in slow motion to settle on his -mates- fly... squeezing...what the fuck????? Squeezing????? ...Carls eyes shot up to catch the expression of abandonment plastered across Petes face ...cunt...fucking CUNT! Downing what was left of his drink he stood ...hastily weaving his way between sweaty bodies. And stood looking down at the typically reckless Peter "Come on" he ventured leaning to hiss into Petes ear discretely ...no response "COME THE FUCK ON PETE" he tried again, more persistently, (...fuck Peter when he's like this ...why the hell do I bother? All he cares about now is where his next fix is coming from and getting his cock sucked, selfish little prick...) Reaching out and grabbing him by the wrist not giving him time to argue, yanking him to his feet.." Gotta go to the toilet" , slurred peter...stumbling slightly ..batting large intoxicated eyes at Carl "For the love of fuck Pete cant you wait until we get back? ...I just wanna get out of here " "No NNNNNNNooooooooooooo NEEEEED to go Carlossssssssssssssss" whined Pete, grabbing his crotch like a frustrated 5 yr old " Come and help me?" he grinned crookedly Ugh , Carl looked around self consciously, he so wished Pete wouldn't play up to this tabloid bisexuality bullshit, didn't he know how it humiliated him??! ... "Fuck off Pete" he hissed warningly " Lets go" Stumbling every other step with Pete slumped on his arm Carl mused what might happen if he weren't there to get the boy out of these scrapes, that old queen had his hands all over him, fuck if he had left it any longer he would have been inside his jeans for sure, now that would have given The Scum something to write about .He felt.. rather than heard Pete giggle pointlessly into the crook of his neck, ...yeah he was lucky he was around for sure. Propping Pete up against the doorway wall Carl fumbled for his keys ...-bang- kicking the door open wide ..and inside ...backing up to collect the wayward Peter. He pulled him inside the sparsely furnished flat that looked more like a squat these days ..."C'mon you ...lets get ya sat down" he grinned adopting a sarcastic fatherly tone Pete flopped down , looking up at Carl " Yes dad..." he quipped giving Carl a crisp military salute and cracking up. Carl merely rolled his eyes and wandered over to the other side of the room to grab his rolling matt and stash...stuck on some tunes and ventured back again ..plonking his arse down next to the by now topless Peter. Half way through trying to tourniquet his arm ..." wish you wouldn't Bilo" he muttered ..."No fucking need" "Ooooooh but there is Carlos " Pete murmured through the length of leather between his teeth " then dropping it when sufficiently tight " Cant get high the way I'd REALLY like to ..so I'm taking second best" he spoke clearly... with intent, his eyes meeting Carl's and holding them steadily. Carl glanced away uncomfortably, suddenly the papers he was putting together were the most interesting things in the world...his fingers rubbing a thick line of block into the neat tobacco... subconsciously moving his blackened thumb to his mouth to suck off the residue,...Peter let out a soft groan watching Carl's lips close over his own thumb, holding his breath as he withdrew the digit glistening with his own spittle.." Fuck..." Carl eventually summoning the strength to look back up, his eyes taking in the scene next to him .Pete averted his eyes and expertly tapped the needle. All his concentration quickly becoming fixed upon the silver point... Carl winced in empathy as he pierced his flesh..."Meaning?" ...he tried, eyes not leaving Pete's abused vein, mesmerized by the blood sweeping back up into the tube...then watching as Pete fell back slowly...exhaleing as the poison coursed through his body. " Second best to fucking you Carl" ...Pete let out with a euphoric hiss , his inhibitions departing him completely. Carl blinked, his ears rang in the silence, those words echoed and echoed. And for a split second everything in the world stopped. Stone dead. Pete sat back up as the immediate rush wore of ...his eyes were like saucers. Deep dark pools of neediness...he shook the tourniquet from his arm and reached his hand up to brush over Carl's cheek. The light touch sending a million small unexpected shocks through Carl's still stunned sense of self..."Pe...te?" he tried. A slow grin was spreading across Petes face, those angelic pouty lips mocking Carl almost sadistically "No smoke without fire" he whispered softly ...letting his thumb find its way to the soft plumpness of Carls bottom lip ... (oh my fucking God)...Carls mind whirled ...wrenching his eyes away from Petes they roamed taking in the sight before him ...the pale fragile ness of Pete's body, his arms ..his chest.. his lips... eyes...fuck those eyes. Pete cocked his head to one side questiongly...drawing Carl's hand to his own ...and pressing it directly onto his crotch ... (oh fucking GOD)...Carl swallowed dryly as he felt the heat and hardness through the rough denim of Petes jeans, his stomach knotted tightly and he snapped his hand away as if struck by lightning. Carl gasped, face flushing , stunned to find himself uncomfortably tight in the jeans department too, he cleared his throat... 'Yeah this is Pete, Pete the junkie, Pete not knowing what the fuck has saying OR doing... "Stop that shit Bilo" ...he muttered. He felt giddy ...dizzy. Like the air had all been stolen in the room suddenly. Like Pete the junkie cunt that he was had removed all his blood and replaced it with some illicit toxic substance that made him just gag for this... no matter how wrong it was to need this dirty little fucker's hands on his...cock...his cock in his throat ..his mouth all over his shaking body. No fucking NO! ...this isn't right though. "Cut it out"...he snapped irritably. Standing up quickly and looking a lot surer of himself than he felt... Pete frowned.."Oh for fuck sakeeeeeeeeeee!" His temper unleashed itself swiftly... "Cant fucking stand the truth cans YOU" ...he spat at him "Can't hear it! don't want to know! Mr fucking bury-ya-head-in-the-sand-Barat" "Fuck you, Pete...try talking to me when you're straight k , mate, I'm going to bed" Carl growled. Brushing it off as best he could. Carl left without so much as a second glance over his shoulder. Pete staring after him, jaw slack in utter amazement... (Fuck him)...Petes mind was racing; now he was really angry, frustration had overtaken all rational thinking. He fucking KNEW he felt the same. What the fuck was the problem. What was SO wrong with him he couldn't just go with it... ..yeah, now he'd had enough , yeah , Carlos the cock tease had teased him one too many times.. too many drunken kisses, yeah, too many wasted gropes when he thought he could get away with it. Blame the drink... blame the drugs, yeah, that was Carl's way...but now it was time to finish it... With a dark chuckle he eased himself up from the sofa...and wandered languidly towards the bedroom where Carl had sought sanctuary...now he was the predator and he didn't care anymore how he was going to have him, by force if it had to be that way ...he grinned as he visualized the headline " Doherty lands back in the ville for raping band mate Barat" haha... Pushing open the door and leaning back lazily against the frame... he let one hand drop to lewdly massage the aching stiffness in his jeans... their eyes met.