Rehman × Hamza (one shot)
WARNING - This content is strictly for 18+ peeps (None of the below 18 people are saint here though)
I personally think that I didn't write this fic well, like I am not satisfied with what I wrote, still I m posting it coz I have given up the hope of doing better in this fic 😭
Whoever sent me this request, I m sorry bbg.
Rest is up to you all to judge guys 🥀
The dim bulb in the safehouse flickered like a dying heartbeat, casting long shadows across the cramped room in the heart of Lyari. The air hung heavy with the scent of stale smoke, gun oil, and the faint metallic tang of blood, Hamza's blood, from the fresh cut above his eye.
He'd just dragged himself back from a recon mission that had gone sideways, rival eyes too close for comfort, but he'd slipped through like a ghost, intel clutched in his mind.
At 31, Hamza's body was a testament to survival, broad shoulders, thick arms corded with muscle from years of street fights and gym sessions, his chest heaving under a torn shirt that clung to sweat-slicked skin. Masculine energy radiated from him, but tonight, it bowed under the weight of exhaustion and the unspoken pull toward the man who owned this turf, his boss, Rehman Baloch.
Rehman paced the worn concrete floor, his 42-year-old frame a wall of unyielding power. Sher-e-Baloch, they called him, the lion of the Baloch, but in private moments like this, the title Sardar lingered on the edge of every command. His dark eyes, sharp as switchblades, fixed on Hamza the moment he shoved the door shut behind him.
Rehman's presence filled the space, dominating aura thick and suffocating, his broad chest straining against a simple black kurta, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms scarred from a lifetime of taking what he wanted. He wasn't a man who gave pleasure, he seized it, demanded it, with the ferocity of a predator who knew no equals. And Hamza, who'd joined his gang a year ago and clawed his way to trusted right-hand man, felt that pull like a chain around his neck.
'Sit,' Rehman commanded, voice low and gravelly, pointing to the rickety wooden chair in the corner. No warmth, no concern for the bruises blooming across Hamza's jaw, just the cold edge of interrogation. Hamza dropped into the seat, wincing as his muscular thighs spread wide, his body still buzzing from the chase. Rehman loomed over him, hands planted on the arms of the chair, caging him in. Up close, Rehman's beard scratched the air between them, his breath hot with the faint spice of tobacco.
'Tell me everything,' Rehman growled, his face inches from Hamza's. 'What did you see? Who was there? Don't make me pull it out of you.'
Hamza swallowed, meeting those piercing eyes. 'Sardar—'
'No,' Rehman cut him off, a smirk twisting his lips. 'Not yet. Start from the beginning.' His gaze raked down Hamza's body, lingering on the way his shirt gaped open, exposing the deep V of his chest, the trail of dark hair leading south.
The room felt smaller, the tension coiling like a spring. Hamza recounted the mission, shadowy figures in the rival's warehouse, whispers of a big shipment, the close call with a knife that had nicked his face. But as he spoke, Rehman's hands didn't stay still. One slid up Hamza's arm, gripping the thick bicep, squeezing hard enough to test the muscle beneath.
'Good work,' Rehman murmured when Hamza finished, but there was no praise in it, only possession. His fingers dug into the fabric of Hamza's shirt, yanking it open with a rip that echoed off the walls. Buttons scattered like spent shells. Hamza's chest heaved, nipples hardening in the cool air, his well-built torso on full display, pecs firm and dusted with hair, abs contracting under Rehman's scrutiny. 'But you got sloppy. Let them see you.'
'It was dark, Sardar,' Hamza protested, voice rough, but his body betrayed him, leaning into the touch.
Rehman's hand cracked across his cheek, not hard enough to bruise further, but enough to sting, to remind. 'Don't lie to me.' He straightened, unbuckling his belt with deliberate slowness, the leather whispering free. Hamza's eyes dropped to the growing bulge in Rehman's pants, his own cock twitching in response, straining against his jeans. The safehouse door was bolted, the outside world a distant hum of Lyari's chaos, sirens, shouts, the pulse of a city that never slept. Here, it was just them, something darker, forbidden.
'Take off your pants,' Rehman ordered, stepping back to watch. Hamza, stunned but obeyed, rising to shove his jeans down his powerful legs, kicking them aside. His cock sprang free, thick and half-hard, veins pulsing along the length, balls heavy beneath. Rehman's eyes darkened, approval flickering as he took in the sight, Hamza's muscular thighs, the curve of his ass, all primed for claiming.
'On your knees,' Rehman said next, voice dropping to that commanding timbre that brooked no argument. Hamza sank down, the concrete biting into his knees, but he didn't care. Rehman's hand tangled in his hair, yanking his head back to force eye contact. 'You think you can come back marked like this and not pay for it? Prove your loyalty.'
Hamza's breath came fast, heart pounding. 'Ji, Sardar.' The word slipped out, heavy with submission, and Rehman's grip tightened, a low rumble in his throat.
'Kiss me first.' Rehman pulled him up slightly, bending to crush their mouths together. It wasn't gentle, Rehman's lips slammed against Hamza's, beard scraping roughly as his tongue invaded, demanding entry. Hamza opened wide, kissing back with desperate hunger, their tongues sliding wet and forceful, teeth nipping at lips.
Rehman's free hand gripped Hamza's jaw, holding him in place as he devoured him, sucking on his lower lip until it swelled. Saliva slicked their chins, the kiss turning sloppy, breaths mingling in harsh pants. Hamza's cock throbbed fully now, leaking pre-cum onto the floor, but Rehman ignored it, taking what he wanted from the kiss, deep, possessive thrusts of his tongue that left Hamza dizzy.
Rehman broke it first, shoving Hamza back down. 'Now, suck me.' He unzipped his pants, freeing his massive cock, thick, the head already glistening with pre-cum, veins bulging along the shaft. It slapped against Hamza's cheek as Rehman gripped the base, smearing the wetness there. 'Open.'
Hamza's mouth watered at the sight, his lips parting wide. He leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap at the slit, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum. Rehman groaned, hand fisting tighter in Hamza's hair, guiding him forward. Hamza took the head in, sucking hard, cheeks hollowing as he swirled his tongue around the ridge. The cock filled his mouth, stretching his jaw, but he pushed deeper, lips sliding down the length until the head bumped the back of his throat. Rehman thrust shallowly, fucking his face with controlled power, the wet sounds of slurping echoing in the room.
'That's it,' Rehman grunted, hips rocking. 'Take it all, you loyal bitch.' Hamza gagged slightly as Rehman pushed further, nose burying in the coarse hair at the base, throat convulsing around the intrusion. Tears pricked his eyes from the stretch, but he hollowed his cheeks more, bobbing his head with enthusiasm. Saliva dripped from his chin, pooling on the floor, as he worked the shaft, sucking, licking, hollowing, his own cock aching untouched.
Rehman watched with hooded eyes, the dominating aura making him tower even on the edge of release. He pulled out abruptly, cock slick and shining, strings of spit connecting it to Hamza's swollen lips. 'Enough. Turn around.'
Hamza scrambled to comply, bracing his hands on the chair, ass presented, muscular cheeks parting slightly to reveal the tight pucker. Rehman knelt behind him, but only to spread those cheeks wide, spitting directly onto the hole. No prep, no mercy, his thumb pressed in first, rough and unyielding, twisting to open him up. Hamza hissed, pushing back instinctively, the burn mixing with need.
'You want this, don't you?' Rehman murmured, voice dark, adding a second finger, scissoring harshly. 'My trusted man, begging for his Sardar's cock.'
'Ah..Ji, Sardar,' Hamza gasped, muscles clenching around the invasion. Rehman's fingers curled, hitting that spot inside, but it was brief, Rehman wasn't here to give prolonged pleasure. He was taking. Withdrawing his fingers, he lined up his cock, the head nudging Hamza's entrance.
One brutal thrust, and he sank in halfway, the tight ring yielding under force. Hamza cried out, back arching, but Rehman clamped a hand over his mouth, muffling the sound as he slammed the rest of the way in. Balls-deep, he paused, grinding deep, letting Hamza feel the fullness, the stretch, the burn, the ownership. Then he pulled back and pounded in again, setting a punishing rhythm. Skin slapped against skin, loud and rhythmic, Rehman's hips snapping forward with gangster ferocity.
Hamza's arms trembled, holding the position as Rehman fucked him raw, long, deep strokes that dragged over every nerve, then short, brutal jabs that made his prostate sing. Sweat poured down their bodies, Rehman's chest pressing against Hamza's back, beard scraping his shoulder as he bit down there, marking. 'Mine Hamzey,' Rehman growled between thrusts, one hand reaching around to grip Hamza's cock, not stroking gently, but jerking roughly, squeezing the base to edge him without mercy.
The safehouse shook with their rutting, grunts, moans, the wet slide of cock in ass. Rehman flipped Hamza onto his back on the floor, legs hooked over his shoulders, folding him in half for deeper penetration. Face to face now, Rehman captured his mouth again in a fierce kiss, tongue fucking in time with his hips. Hamza kissed back wildly, hands clawing at Rehman's back, nails digging into muscle as the pounding intensified. Rehman's cock pistoned in and out, balls slapping Hamza's ass, the friction building heat that bordered on pain.
'Call me Sardar,' Rehman demanded against his lips, thrusting harder.
'Sardar! Fuck, Sardar.....harder!' Hamza begged, his muscular body quaking, abs tightening as Rehman jerked him faster. The kiss broke into pants, Rehman's teeth grazing Hamza's neck, sucking bruises into the skin.
Rehman's pace turned feral, hips blurring as he chased his release, taking Hamza along. With a roar, he buried deep, cock pulsing as he unloaded, hot spurts of cum flooding Hamza's ass, marking him inside. The sensation tipped Hamza over, his own cock erupting in Rehman's fist, ropes of cum splattering across his chest and Rehman's shirt.
They collapsed together, breaths ragged, bodies tangled in the aftermath. Rehman's weight pinned Hamza down, a final claim. In the quiet, with Lyari's distant clamor filtering in, the bond solidified, gangsters, lovers in the shadows. No words needed, the interrogation was over, loyalty proven in every thrust and gasp.
Rehman watched, hand stroking Hamza's hair almost tenderly, but the aura remained, taker to the core.
Hours passed in the safehouse, the night deepening. Rehman made him do it again, another round of kissing that bruised lips, a blowjob that left Hamza's throat raw, and fucking that shook the walls. Each time, the command echoed: 'Sardar.' Each time, Hamza gave everything, body yielding to the dominating force that was Rehman Baloch. In Lyari's underbelly, pleasure was power, and Rehman took it all.
I AM SORRY IF IT WAS NOT GOOD 🫠
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