Hey! This is a story I've been working on for a while on and off, and have finally gotten back to. Because I'm already working on Taste of Blood and Not my Blood (lol I'm so original) it will probably move a little slower, but I wanted to put it out here anyway, because Chase and Nick are my favoritist ever.
If you've already read Fated you know Nick pretty well! (though he's 21 here, so a bit different). This is his most "official" story (no alternate dimensions here, haha). Enjoy!
I'm just hanging out at this godforsaken local bar, looking around with a half-empty drink in my hand, thinking about how I should probably just head home and get an early night, when I look over, running a hand through my black hair in irritation as I automatically locate a fidgeting little thing down the bar. He has a drink is his hand that he has hardly touched, just running his pointer finger over the rim as his eyes flick about nervously.
I turn away, brows low. He's perfectly my type, honestly, small and cute with his sports t-shirt and tight jeans.
I hate my type. Only twenty-five and I'm already a bitter old man.
From the ways he squirming around like his chair's on fire, this is probably his first time in a gay bar, and I repeat the stupid mantra part of me has already prepared to convince myself to walk over there. Come on, go sit next to him, talk to him, make him feel welcome. Yeah right. I'm kind of tired of making people feel 'welcome.'
But apparently not tired enough.
Huffing out a breath, I get up from my stool, waving down the bartender. "Hey, get me a drink."
"What are you havin—"
I don't even let him finish, I'm so resolute in my doomed existence. I order some random fruity shit, thinking, if he's anything like my type, he'll fucking like it. And while the drink is being made, my face eyes travel back of their own accord, heating up with a glare as they fall inevitably back to the boy.
He's a bit younger than me, early twenties, just barely legal, and he's about pissing himself with fear, clutching his untouched beer like an anchor as he keeps his head ducked down. He won't stop biting his lip, and his hair is deliciously skewed from messing with it anxiously. His eyes stay low, focusing on a spot on the table and I can tell he knows I'm watching him, but he just keeps playing with the wrapper on his bottle and pretends I don't exist.
I frown ruefully. I'm a fucking masochist.
"Order up," the barista states cheerfully. I throw a ten down.
"Keep the fucking change," I murmur.
"You don't deserve it."
And with that I grab the glass, going grimly to meet my fate.
When I get to the boy, I land in the empty seat next to him, nearly startling him into falling out of his own chair. "Hey," I say, putting the glass down before his face promptly. "You looked thirsty."
The kid's eyes dart about in panic, but I finally catch them, and when I do, the guy is too scared to pull away.
I prop up my elbow on the tabletop, dropping my cheek against my palm, expression flat as I grab the boy's beer and take a drink.
"Name's Chase," I introduce myself, before looking down to the glass that contains some sort of red concoction of who-knows-what. "Hey, drink that. I got it for you."
The boy's eyes flash. "Um, I—" His eyes grow stormy and he almost looks like he's going to argue, but then he just takes the bendy straw between his lips and sucks lightly, looking as if he's undergoing torture rather than being treated to a free drink.
"So," I ask. "Your name?"
The kid pushes a hand back through his thick dark hair, releasing the straw. Barely took a fucking sip. "Hey, um, you know, I'm not—"
I sigh. "I just asked your name, okay?"
He bites his lip again. Annoying habit. I can't stop looking. "I'm…Nick, but—" He shrinks back, brows pressing together defensively, almost angrily. Jesus, what did I do. "—but I'm not gay okay? I just got…lost, and this was the only open bar that I could find."
My stomach twists up in a sick knot, and I take another drink of his beer before answering in a hostile, clipped tone, "Try Broke Martini across the street."
The boy flushes immediately, eyes dropping to the table before he takes another pull of his drink. "…Fuck you."
"Nice." I flick the boy's straw out of his mouth to get his attention. When he looks back up to me reluctantly, I continue, "Get this through your head right now: I know what you're really doing here, so don't play games with me, easy enough?" The line coming from my mouth is so pathetic and stupid. I knew he was going to fuck with me as soon as I laid eyes on him. Jesus. What game am I playing?
The boy grumbles silently, looking away, but I can see the helpless blush rising in his cheeks, can see the way his eyes flicker, waiting for my next move, and fuck, it's so hot. I reach out, reveling in his automatic flinch, before I run my fingers through his hair. Goddamnit, it's so fucking soft.
"Wanna come home with me?" I ask, plain and simple. It's not the words that have this Nick kid melting to the core. I know what I'm doing. I really do.
Releasing his hair, I grab his chin, forcing him to eye me.
"Nick," I snap out, eyes hard. He gasps out a shaky breath.
"Do. You. Want. To. Come. Home. With. Me."
The boy tries to break away. "B-but…"
"Yes or no."
Teeth tug abusively on that lower lip; lashes fall half-mast over eyes dark with lust.
"Okay…" he finally admits in a whisper, looking defeated.
Yeah, poor him.
Glad in a hopeless sort of way that I'm not too drunk to take this angsty little bundle of uncertainty home, I have the kid buckled into the passenger seat of my car and the Toyota out on the road toward home within minutes. Turning the radio on low volume, I hold myself tensely in wait for an onslaught of excuses or a change of mind. Instead I get something just as predictable:
"Hey, slow down," the boy says, clutching the knees of his tight jeans as he drops his head against the dash theatrically. "I'm a little too drunk right now for over the speed limi—ah!"
I yank abusively on the handful of hair I've claimed, only letting go after he lets out another lovely cry of pain.
"Drunk my ass. You're tipsy at best. Don't fuck with me or I'm dropping you off on the side of the street."
He goes obediently silent, shoulders shaking.
"I don't fuck boys who won't be honest," I warn a second later, the knot in my stomach twisting up tightly. What a joke. I flick on the left turn signal, turning my tired eyes over to the cowering boy. Cowering from himself. What the fuck is my problem?
"O…kay…" he finally acknowledges, face turned toward the passenger window and voice barely audible above the radio.
I roll my eyes, sighing. When I pull up into my parking spot, I get out and open the kid's door for him—he'll never get out any other way. He takes plenty of time fumbling with his seatbelt before he allows me to lead him up the stairs to the door of my one-bedroom apartment.
"Well, get in," I instruct Nick when he just stands in the doorway awkwardly. Eyes downcast, the boy trudges in, slumping his shoulders. I kick my door shut before putting my arm around them.
"So, couch or bed?" I ask, gazing directly into his wavering eyes. Nick grits his teeth, looking sick to his stomach. Tell me about it.
"I…" He flushes, fear in the tense line of his mouth and his lifted brows—I know what he's scared of, and it sure isn't me. "Uh, Chase, um," He fiddles with one of the curls framing his ears, purses his lips. For a brave moment he's looking me in the eyes, and then he turns away quickly, dropping his face in one hand to avoid my gaze. Unimpressed by his little show, I quirk a brow in a wry expression. This is just so typical. So typical.
"Want me to choose?" I ask, sighing.
"Okay, c'mon." I guide him down the hall, bringing him into my bedroom. As soon as we get there, he decides to have another staring match with my carpet, shoulders hunched over underneath my arm almost like he's willing himself to escape through the floor. Jeez, he sure is small when he holds himself like that.
After a long silence during which I swear Nick starts counting the fibers in my rug, I lift my brows.
"Something down there I should know about?"
That seems to bring the boy back to life as he flicks his eyes up to me, his brows twisting upward in an expression that is almost painfully shy. "U-um…no…uh…where's your bathroom?"
I pull back from him and lean back on one of my bedposts so I can kick off my tennis shoes. "Try just down the hall on your right," I tell him, gesturing out the door, "unless you were planning on going through that way." I eye the carpet indicatively, and Nick's ears go red, teeth gritting.
"Be right back," he mutters as he turns his face away and walks out of my room.
I nod. "Take as long as you want."
He clicks the door shut, and, taking advantage of my time alone, I shuck off my socks and jacket, before rifling through my nightstand drawers for a bottle of plain lube and a few condoms. I place these items on the table unobtrusively so they won't scare the kid off, annoyed at how accustomed I am to this routine. Why can't I just go for a normal guy, someone who can actually admit he wants to be fucked by me? Someone who can actually admit he wants to be loved by me? You know, maybe even love me back?
I straighten out the blanket somberly. Yeah. Like that'll ever happen.
Nick's shuffling footsteps have my eyes snapping up from a vague depressing place between the nightstand and the floor, and I casually move away from the bed, advancing toward him, watching his body freeze up, his arms fold over his chest anxiously as I move in closer. Thanks to the fluorescent light, I am able to appreciate how his violent blush compliments his dark hair and creamy-pale skin combo. Anxious eyes, swept over now by inky eyelashes as he stares off to the side, are a pure green that is a little more nostalgic than I want to admit.
"So, first time to a gay bar?" His sharp flinch and following blush up to his ears would've been cuter if I wasn't so tired of this sort of reaction already. "Well, you're pretty cute—I'm surprised no one picked you up earlier." The boy's eyes tighten, his teeth chewing aggressively at the corner of his lip. "Then again, your attitude probably didn't help too much in that department."
"That was the idea," Nick mutters in a biting tone that's weakened considerably by how miserable he sounds. Oh Jesus. I reach down, grab his chin, force his face up.
"It wouldn't kill you to look at me," I state flatly, tugging lightly again on the roots of his hair so I can see his wince of pain. "So," The boy swallows heavily. "you wanted to avoid being hit on even though you were sitting, bored to death, in the middle of a gay bar. Okay fine." My eyes narrow, voice lowering. "But you're here now."
Nick squirms a little.
"Uh, um, I—"
I slide the hand that isn't tangled up in his hair down his waist, cup his ass and squeeze. A small whimper escapes his pursed lips.
"So, let's stop with the bullshit, alright?"
And then, before he can say anything stupid, I kiss lightly up his neck, successfully robbing him of his breath while I gauge his reaction. Yeah, he's shaking—I try not to think about how hot that makes me for the moment as I knead his ass, playing my fingers through his hair only gently—but he's not pulling away either. Easing up a little so he can get out of my arms if he wants, I lightly scrape my teeth along the line of his jaw, feeling out his body underneath my palms.
Nick sighs, falls against me.
I pull back and stroke his face, looking down at him. He blinks, breath stuttering. Yeah, he's not trying to go anywhere anytime soon. Like I didn't already know that.
I reach down and take his mouth.
And that quickly, I am thrown off. Because, unexpectedly, I realize he knows this process just as well as I do, has learned it and internalized it and replayed it over and over, because as much as he's frozen and trembling, his heart isn't even beating fast; he's calm as ever as he tentatively places his arms around me and reluctantly opens his mouth up for my tongue. Bitch.
Whatever. I press harder into his lips so I can feel his teeth, my hands itching to be tangled back up in that hair. With a hard breath, I force myself to pull back and breathe hotly in his ear,
"I want to be rough with you. That okay?"
"Mmm," he murmurs noncommittally, before dropping back against my mouth.
I grab both his arms, force him back so his eyes flash with concern. "Yes or no," I tell him, no-nonsense. "I need a proper answer. Can I be rough with you or not?"
Nick looks off to the side, biting at his lip. "S-sure?"
I barely keep myself from tightening the grip on his arms to the point of pain. "YES," I bite out, eyes flat with annoyance, "or NO?"
The boy flushes spectacularly, then brows pressing together in worry, he whispers a quiet but still valid "…yes."
"Okay," I say, taking things in stride as best as I can. "Do you know what a safe word is?" I'm not really planning to do anything too crazy tonight, but better safe than sorry.
"Is that a yes as in yes, or a yes as in I have no fucking idea?"
"Okay. The safe word's yellow." My voice is edged with a near-undetectable self-mockery. Even after all these years it hasn't changed. No wonder I'm cursed. "You say 'no,' I'm not going to do anything." I let that sink in for a moment as I gaze into Nick's uncertain green eyes. "You say 'yellow,' I stop right away. Got it?"
Nick nods his head slowly.
"C'mon, I want to hear you say it."
Red-faced, he mumbles, "y…yellow…"
"No," I slap down, exasperated. "I have to actually be able to hear you. Try again."
I roll my eyes. "Good enough. Now listen, don't just throw it around either, okay? You say that, and we're done. Got it? I give you your clothes, get you some coffee, and show you the door. So," I eye him pointedly "Don't say it unless you mean it. You can say no all you want." I squeeze his arms, bring him hard against me. "In fact," I growl against the inside of his neck, my breath painting his skin with goosebumps "I really like it."
Fucking hopelessly cursed.
Nick shudders and I hate how much I already want him. Just my type, yeah he is. He'll probably get off on me jerking him around and slapping his ass red. Yes a hopeless part of me purrs silently, and I roll my eyes before grabbing a generous handful of his hair and yanking him hard enough that his brows shoot together in a wince. I bring his lips to mine in a hard, brief kiss, before I twist a cry out of him as I force him slowly down my body, his nose so close it's almost gliding down my shirt. When I have his spine bent at a beautiful angle, his face all but pressed into my abdomen, I give his dark locks a quick tug and open my mouth,
"So you like playing straight boy, huh?" I ask him, drawing a gasp from his lips. "Well, you're not very convincing. Do you even realize how needy you look with your ass sticking out like this?" I stroke along the line of his back with my free hand. "I can feel you trembling, Nick. You can't lie to me."
Nick moans. Eyes lighting, I shove his face against my dick, giving his lips a good feel for the denim as I grind my hips against him.
"I don't like lies, Nick. You're lucky I even brought you here. I could have left you at the bar, it would've been so easy—a lot easier than this." I press my tented jeans demandingly against his mouth. He's so tense with shock he's not moving a muscle. Time to fix that. "You've been a real bitch." With a tug of his hair, I tilt his face up so his zoned-out eyes connect with mine. And just like that, I see the reality check register in a sharp jolt over that expression, and, despite myself, I smirk down at him, enjoying his resulting blush and anxious squirm. "I think you should make it up to me, whad'ya think?"
Brows pressing together uncertainly, Nick grits his teeth and growls low in his throat. Oh yeah, he's liking this. My free hand drops to the button of my jeans, and, making him watch, I pop it open and slowly bring down the zipper. Reaching into my underwear, I pull out my cock, bumping the head against Nick's lower lip.
"I would tell you what to do, but I already think you know."
A brief pause, that last resistance, and then I breathe out headily as his tongue swipes at my weeping slit. Warm lips wrap around the head and suck, and I'm really not surprised that he's good at this. He's got a regular rhythm down, his tongue darting into my hole just slightly as he teases the tip of my cock with light pulls of his mouth. His hands, which he has carefully secured to his belt loops by the thumbs, twitch slightly, but he keeps them to himself. Too bad. Instead, he starts to go down on my dick further, and then, in an impulsive, startling motion, takes almost the entire thing. I cry out in surprise before I can stop myself, but just as I'm about to pound his throat for a little payback, he slowly slides back and returns to just past the head, a nice little slide and twist of that tongue pulling an irritated groan from me.
At that, his eyes flick up to mine, and as we connect, I watch them spark brightly. Brat. As much as I want to see this all play out, that light in his eyes isn't a challenge I'm going to let pass. A grin unfurls on my lips, and I tighten my hold on the roots of his hair.
"No you don't, little slut."
Nick's brows drop, and his mouth releases me to grimace. "Fuck you, I don't even want—"
I ram my cock into his face, successfully shutting him up as I savor the scrape of teeth on my skin. It's his turn to be shocked, and he expresses it quite extravagantly with angry twitches of his hips as I force him down on me. It's his hands that tell me he's not really trying to get away, though, still firm and unshaking, thumbs comfortable in their loops of denim. That and his earnest tongue, which is trying to win this competition all on its own. I bite into my lip, releasing a soft moan. "Oh fuck Nick, fuuuuuuck."
Those eyes, again, willful and way too green, flash up to take in my expression. I grin and lick my lips suggestively, sending a blush right through his cheeks before I thrust deeper down his throat. He only takes the slightest moment to adjust, easily breathing through his nose to compensate for the lack of airways. "You're so good at this Nick," I croon, smirking. "Taking me so deep."
His eyes flash off to the side, but I don't let him go that easy. Fucking heartjerker deserves a little punishment. Grabbing his hair tighter, I pound his face, watching as excess saliva seeps down the side of his mouth uncontrollably.
"You love sucking dick, don't you? Love me tasting my cock while I fuck your face? How do you have anyone fooled when you love meat so much? It's not just noticeable, it's fucking obvious."
He gurgles around me, and goddamnit, kid has a thing for dirty talk.
"Yeah, that's right, use that filthy mouth. You're a natural. Spit or swallow?"
The boy glares up at me, and I smile. "Swallow then. Perfect." And, twisting his hair in a lovely knot around my fingers, I ejaculate down his throat, panting in satisfaction as I shoot off.
I let his hair go, and he immediately pulls off of me and wipes his mouth, eyes turning to the side before I can even comment on the aroused flush in his cheeks.
"What, playing shy now?"
I grab handfuls of his shirt sleeves to startle him into looking up, and with that motion I get a good look at his biceps all wrapped up in the material, and they're surprisingly undisappointing. Good to note. Probably would look good in rope. Not that we're going to go there tonight. Gotta ease him into it.
"Hmph," Nick murmurs, looking down.
"What?" I ask with a grin, jerking him against me. He looks up with his faced flushed irately and my expression flattens out. "Get on the bed."
Those eyes doubt themselves for a moment, flicking nervously, before his lips form the words:
My eyes flash, and before I know it I have my hand around his neck and my mouth mashed against his so hard I can feel my teeth cutting lightly against the inside of my top lip. It takes me awhile to get my head and loosen my grip, and I almost don't bother, but reason gets to me. "This okay?" I pant, fingers unwilling to leave his throat. He nods, and then I'm tightening my hold, crushing his body to mine. All I have left to do is grab his ass, lift him the couple necessary inches off the floor, and shuffle my way to the edge of the bed while his eager hands massacre my shirt and tear at my hair under the pretense of trying not to fall. Bad boy. I tip him back, letting him fall the rest of the way to the mattress so I can savor the brief panic in his eyes as he drops, unsupported.
"Gotcha," I breathe out huskily, pinning him by his pretty neck, Adam's apple beneath my palm bobbing as he struggles to breathe properly. "What'ya gonna do now?"
"Fuck…you," he gasps, brows lowering, but I don't hear a "yellow" anywhere in there.
"Fuck you?" I press my body down on his, grinding into him. "Wasn't that already the plan? You were gonna spread your legs for me and I was—"
His flat hand comes up out of nowhere and slaps against my face with a sharp sound, leaving a red sting on my cheek. My eyes widen as I look down on him, on his offending palm, pink with the force of his slap, but also carefully rested back against the coverlet. My brow lifts.
"…oh really now."
"Let me go." He struggles, grimacing "I'm not gonna just…" His hand rises again, but this time I catch the movement and shackle both of his wrists before slamming them roughly into the comforter. His body's responsive squirming has my blood hot.
"Gonna fight me the whole way, aren't ya?" I sneer, and I shouldn't love the sound of that so much, or the way he grits his teeth and begins jerking underneath me, fists clenching in his attempts to escape. He frowns, face flushing even darker.
"L-let me go." His fierce eyes attempt to command me, but his need for me to do the exact opposite is incredibly apparent in the erection that's fighting with the unforgivingly tight crotch of his pants.
"Let you go, huh?" I tighten my grip around his wrists, moving the hand around his throat down to the waistline of his jeans. "What about this?" I caress a finger down that perfect line of cock, earning a low moan, green eyes turning abruptly to the side as his face flushes. "You want me to let this go?" I grab his zipper indicatively. He takes in an expectant breath, but I shake him right out of it by jostling his held wrists, getting his eyes to connect back with mine. "Why don't you answer me like you're supposed to?" The boy huffs out as I grip his cock through his jeans. "You want me to something about this?" He murmurs imperceptibly, cheeks going dark. "Huh?" I let him go and just grab his thighs, lifting them abruptly before burying my face between his legs.
I get my shoulders underneath his thighs as I continue licking at the bulge against my mouth, hands reaching down to scrape at soft skin that's been bared by the shirt bunched around his armpits. Shaved. Nice. He hisses needily, twisting his hips to get more of my mouth. "Want me to take these off?" I tease, tugging at the loopholes of his pants, and nosing his balls. "Hm?"
I grab the button of his jeans and tug down the zipper. Smirking down at him, I take the waistline and pull, letting his thighs drop off my shoulders as they slide back. He gives a graceless cry as he falls back to the bed, glaring up at me with his naked legs spread apart once I have his clothes gathered in my hands. His erection stands up straight between his thighs, shirt caught on the tip. At least he's shameless about something. I lift my arms and pull off my T, tossing it playfully into his face. "Shirt off," I command, and he eyes me flatly for a moment before following suit. There we go. Getting comfortable now. Far fewer excuses running out of that mouth.
When he's sitting there, naked on my bed, it's really so much better than I had thought. He looked skinny when I first saw him, but underneath that shirt is a delicious amount of muscle tone that is much more difficult to notice at a downward angle. Those legs are really nice too, and it's all I can do to stop myself from going right between them and sucking purple marks into the pale skin. Later.
For now, I step up to him, watching that glower slowly melt into lust. Settling in front of him on the bed, I grab his hair and force his mouth to mine, biting harshly at that bottom lip. Not like he doesn't do that to himself enough already. I throw him down beneath me as he gasps, traveling down his beautiful body with my teeth, turning those perfect nipples red and leaving dark marks all down his torso. Wonder how he'll address those with his future partners—Or will he just wait until they fade? Maybe come back to me instead? Ask for seconds? What kind of excuse will he make? Maybe forgot his belt, or his socks…
I press my mouth down over the head of his cock, and he moans aloud, pushing curled toes against my shoulder. Eyes glinting, I swallow him deeper, sucking tight around his shaft.
"Ohhhnnnn…" he begs, tipping his hips so the rest of his cock crams down my throat. But I'm not going to let him cum that easy. I spread his legs and pin his thighs to the bed, and he whines irritably, squirming and rubbing his ass all over my sheets. Hot. He'd definitely like a plug in that hole while getting sucked off, but for now I let him whimper and vie for more stimulation.
He groans, dropping his head and gritting his teeth.
"Something wrong?" I ask, pulling off to lick teasingly at his balls. He twitches so hard I lose my grip on him, but I quickly clamp his thighs back down and keep those legs spread obediently, which he is clearly enjoying. I move my tongue lower, flicking just beneath his balls. He all but sobs. "Hm?" I look up to him innocently from where I'm lying between his legs. He shudders, cheeks hot and eyes dilated. That lower lip is shaking. "Something you want?" I push my nose up underneath his balls, tasting the sweaty sheets as I do so.
A trembling hand reaches out to drop onto my head, but I shake it off with a wicked gaze. He whines even louder. Good fucking god, talk about a one-eighty. "You have to tell me if you want something," I say, nipping gently at his ball-sack. If his legs shake any harder they're going to smack me in the face. "Unless just this is fine?" I breathe warm air into the nook of his thigh before biting down lightly.
"Mmm," he protests weakly, blushing hard as the defined scoop of his collarbone and shoulders tenses, head dropping back so that throat is a gorgeous long line leading up to a his adam's apple. A pained look tightens his expression. "Mmm…"
I lick a slow path from the clean-shaven edge of his pelvis to the base of his cock, and his rib-cage jerks beneath that milky skin with erratic pants. "Tell me what you need," I murmur against his pulsing cock. "C'mon."
"M-make me cum…"
Those eyes drop down to my level, coming with a heavy bat of those thick lashes. His hands tighten in the sheets. "I—" He bites his lip. "I don't care."
My gaze quickly hardens into a glare. "Liar."
He gulps, looking away. Moment of truth. I can feel it building in the harsh breaths coming from between those reddened lips, in that uncertain look he keeps tugging around. He turns back to me and whimpers. "Please."
"Please what?" No getting out of this, not this time. I'm not going to make it easy for him like everyone else has. Little bitch needs to learn.
"I…want…" He's squirming again, and it's a confusing turn-on, because I can see that self-loathing returning to his green eyes. "I…want…" He drops his eyes to the sheet, tugs at it abusively with his hands, knots it between his fingers. And then he does the sexiest motherfucking thing I've ever seen and just drops on his back helplessly before lifting his knees, like he's been shot by an inescapable bullet.
My jaw goes slack with hunger. Good efuckingnuff. Sliding a hand down his thigh lingeringly, I sit up and grab the lube from my nightstand, pouring some on my palm. Not-so-gently I push my lubed-up fingers between his cheeks, and I'm just about to tease one into his pink hole when he does that cute twitching thing and somehow succeeds in stealing all the way down to the first knuckle of my middle finger without permission. I growl and jam it the rest of the way in, earning a sharp cry.
"Oh fuck," he pants when I add another finger, and I can't really tell if he's loving this or having a mental breakdown or both. "Oh, oh, ughhh…" He grinds his ass into the bed helplessly, precum beading at the tip of his cock. Face going hot, I watch it build and spill over as I let him destroy my sheets with his legs, which are jerking hectically around with every thrust. When it gets to be too ridiculous, I grab him by one of his ankles and give it to him as hard and fast as I can, clenching my teeth and leveling my eyes in concentration. He cries out and tries to flinch away, but I yank him against to me, and with a final jerk he gives a loud shout and cums all over himself. I milk the orgasm with a few more presses of my fingers on his prostate, and he yelps, streak after streak of cum pumping out of him until he's just dribbling pearly white and gripping the sheets in the fetal position.
Holy motherfucking fuck. My eyes are as big as motherfucking dinner plates. What is this stupidly horny sex-angel? I grab his cock to jerk out the last little bit of cum, blinking in amazement when he only moans submissively and rolls his hips. Oh fucking christ. My brain automatically overloads with ropes, whips, paddles, vibrators, beads, nipple clamps for sure, collars and cuffs and something to keep those legs spread for hours—
I exhale shakily, working my way back to earth. Looking down, I note that Nick is sniffling pathetically into the bedclothes. Well, that needs to stop.
"You did so good for me," I say, gently stroking my clean hand through his hair. I was pretty vanilla with him, but some boys are easy to push into subspace. I roll my eyes. Some boys. I know exactly who I'm talking about. To my surprise, however, instead of leaning into the touch or looking up at me for grounding, he turns his eyes sharply towards me, brows lowered.
My eyes go wide. Okay. Sassiness still intact. And a whole lot of shame, from the way that he drops his eyes immediately afterward. I know how to take care of that though.
"Oh, I don't really think you want that," I say, bending over him to lick the cum off his chest. "You were so into it." He gives a small sound of protest, watching with a hopelessly torn look on his face as I clean him off. Passing over his chest, I give his nipple a little tug with my teeth. "How about you get on your knees," I say once he's remembered how to breathe, just because I want to see his legs give out the first time he tries. He glares at me, but the effect is dulled by the rash of blush spilling down his chest and the lewd swollenness of his lower lip. I slide my hands underneath one of his full cheeks. "I want to see this ass in front of my face when I fuck you."
Nick recoils, something about my phrasing bringing back that defensive look. "How do you know I'm not going to fuck you?" he insists, jaw clenching. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, eyes flashing with lightning. "You don't tell me what to fucking d—"
I don't pause. I just snap my hand out and grab him by the jaw. "I know," I say, "because you're going to get on all fours for me, or I'm going to make you."
Those emerald eyes spark with something akin to fear, and I wonder if I've pushed it too far. Even if he is the sexiest thing I've touched in ages, scaring him off won't achieve anything. I release him gently and sidle up, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "Don't you want it?" I ask, taking his hand and putting it down the open front of my pants. He trembles. I trace my tongue along his ear. "Don't you want me to fill you up with my big cock and fuck you harder than you've ever been fucked in your life?"
The boy murmurs out an involuntary sound of want, relaxing into me. Better. "Don't you want me to make you feel good?"
"M-maybe," he allows. I reach underneath his balls and stroke a finger over his wet hole. "Mm…but…"
"But what?" I breathe softly against his throat. My finger pops inside and I pet just along the rim, winning a quiet moan. "I don't see any problem, do you?"
"I…I…" The boy turns away. He's probably used to quick fucks with the way he goes about getting laid, and seeing him struggle with this change of pace is fucking delicious. "I won't…I can't…"
"Mmm?" I ask, caressing him even deeper, just beneath his prostate. Those legs are already back to shaking, his cock is twitching. "What is it?"
"I—" He drops his face against my chest as I massage him slowly. "Oh fuck."
"Is this how you want me to fuck you?" I ask, teasing his prostate. He shakes his head.
My heart thumps, and it takes all my power to keep from just flipping him over and fucking him bareback. "Then get that ass up for me," I instruct, taking out my fingers and giving him a little push so he falls over on his stomach. The glare he gives me from underneath his disarrayed bangs is priceless, and, in a sultry way I'm half-sure he knows is seductive as fuck, Nick gets his knees underneath him and gently slopes his ass up into the air.
"Happy?" he bites out once he's got that back arched and those legs spread. Drool wells up in my mouth as I strip off my pants without looking away. No fucking need for clothes, for brain function, for any of that shit, not when this is in front of me. I reach out and stroke my hand over one of his cheeks, Nick giving a little hmph from where his face is pressed against the bed. Smirking, I slap my hand down lightly.
"Well," Nick mutters, "are you just going to look at it?"
"Maybe," I tease, before getting up on my knees and grabbing the condom. I move behind him, ripping open the condom wrapper. One-handed condom application is a tricky business, but my other hand is busy toying with his hole, and there's no way I'm going to stop when he's making the sounds he is. "You want me to fuck you hard, huh?" I drizzle cold lube down his ass. "Be careful what you wish for."
"Shut up," he snaps back, and I grin, lining up my cock.
"Whatever you want." And I shove my dick into his wet hole.
He gasps but still takes that first thrust with ease, accepting me immediately. Yup, quick fucks for sure. It's all in his body language, the way he pushes back on me and twists his hips urgently, already grabbing for his erection. I shake my head. This guy seriously has no self-restraint. At this rate, fucking him isn't going to last much longer than a few minutes, and I didn't go through all that bullshit for a quickie. I pant raggedly as he tightens around me, taking what he wants in sloppy but practiced movements. Fuck no. I grab his hips and take back control, triggering his prostate with full thrusts so he moans loudly, that body melting down into the bed. With a sharp yank I bring him back against me. "This what you wanted?" Nick cries out when I land a heavy slap across his ass, his hands grabbing the edge of my bed and tearing up my sheets. Fuck it, he can pull my whole bed apart into tiny pieces if he wants to. I lick sweat off my upper lip as I pound into him, loving the way he moves with me, yielded so completely he might as well be attached by puppet strings.
"Yes?" I ask mockingly, stroking a hand up his back before scraping nails down along his spine. He moans, letting go of his dick so he can hold himself steady with both hands. He's about this close to making friends with the wall, however, so I redirect him so his face is in the pillows instead. "That feel good, huh baby?" My hips slam brutally forward, my cock tearing into the tight heat of his ass so fast I have to make another go for the lube and slather my cock with it so I don't actually rip his delicate skin. A sharp exhalation leaves my mouth. Goddamnit, not even Robby used to like being fucked this hard, and that was intense enough as is. But this Nick kid is just taking it all like he can't get enough. I reach down with one hand and grab his hair, wrapping it around my fingers before tugging harshly.
"Mmph!" he protests in pain as I force his head up. He throws a look back at me, those eyes full of desperation and such sweet need. "Nng—" I lick a wet line up the shell of his ear. "Faster…"
My eyes go wide.
I automatically latch my free hand tight around his shoulder and jackhammer him so hard he has to grab the headboard to keep from dropping. Unable to smack his ass with both my hands busy, I mold my body against his back and latch my teeth into his neck, biting and sucking until I pull back to see a purpling, enflamed bruise forming on that pretty skin. Nick gives a small low sound that can only be called a scream, and realizing he's close, I reach underneath him and jack off his painfully hard cock until he gives over with a hard jerk of his hips. Growling, I pull his hair even tighter and hiss in his ear:
"You. Are going to make me cum. So. Fucking. Hard."
And I do. I motherfucking do. My orgasm is so intense I'm scared for a split-second that it's just going to break right through the condom. Nick doesn't seem to mind the way I dig my nails into his skin and pull his hair as I let loose, the boy only echoing my sounds with needy ones of his own. Fuck, this kid. Definitely not a hit-it-and-quit-it, hell no, and fuck, if he comes back, I'm going to show him what I really mean by rough and…oh fuck, I want him to come back. I really do. Fuck. Fuck.
I pull my dick out and peel off the condom, letting Nick's body fall limp against the blankets while I take care of my jizz. But almost as soon as I'm done throwing the used condom away, Nick is already up, scurrying around for his clothes on the floor.
"Hey, you don't have to be in a rush," I say, eyeing him worriedly. He doesn't spare me a glance, only stating simply,
"Class in the morning. Need to get home."
"Okay, well I'm driving you right? So chill." I sigh, getting slowly up off the bed. "Let me get my motherfucking bearings."
"I can walk," he murmurs. I arch an eyebrow as I pull my t-shirt over my head.
"What the fuck? I'm not going to stalk you or some shit. Let me give you a ride home."
"I can walk," he says again, pulling on his underwear. I sigh.
"Dude, I just fucked your ass raw, and you won't even let me give you a ride?" I ask, disbelieving. An intense blush heats Nick's cheeks.
"Shut the fuck up," he snaps. "It's…it's not raw."
My eyes roll. "Okay, well can I at least get your number?" I ask, dropping back down on the bed. "I mean…I had a pretty good time, and seemed like you did too."
For a moment Nick's eyes turn to me, big and green and vulnerable. And then they go dark and he turns his head away, teeth gritted. Jesus, really?
"Can I give you my number?" I try drily when he continues to put on his clothes in silence, my hands already digging through my nightstand for a spare scrap of paper. I'm not expecting that he'll let me put it into his phone. "You can call me next time you want your brains fucked out."
"Shut the fuck up," I mimic him in a bored voice, getting up and slipping the sticky note with my number into his back pocket, patting his ass once I'm done. "Now get the fuck out of my apartment before I find a reason to tear these clothes back off."
The kid blushes furiously and stomps out of my room, making a hugely unnecessary racket as he leaves my place. Well, he is noisy.
Goddamnit, I'm never gonna see that little bitch again, am I?
Woohoo! This only took me a million years to actually finish! Tell me what you think!