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Fic: for a taste
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disarm_d and I wrote the other night. Unbeta'd, so all the mistakes are mine in the editing process. Also, Laura's running a Bandom Goes Down (Baby's First Oral) Meme here if you're really in the mood for more BJs. :D
for a taste
[Jon/Spencer, 1650 words, NC-17 (very)]
byfoxxcub and disarm_d
It's like a switch is flipped in Jon's brain, and suddenly he's crawling over Spencer, nuzzling his way up Spencer's body until he's hovers over his stomach and says into his shirt, "C'mon, Spence, I can take it, I just need to taste you."
With just the right combination of Jack and pot, Jon sort of becomes addicted to Spencer's cock.
Not that Spencer's spent any considerable time trying to figure out the exact combination or anything. It just happens sometimes, especially when they're alone in Spencer's house, sprawled across Spencer's suede sofa with a spent joint sitting in the ash tray and a half empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table.
It's like a switch is flipped in Jon's brain, and suddenly he's crawling over Spencer, nuzzling his way up Spencer's body until he's hovers over his stomach and says into his shirt, "C'mon, Spence, I can take it, I just need your cock in my mouth, need to taste you."
Spencer, to his credit, makes a valiant attempt to huff and push Jon away. "No, okay? I'm too wasted, I won't be able to hold back."
But Jon has already sunk to his knees on the carpet, facing the couch as he drags Spencer's legs over, fits himself between Spencer's thighs. He mouths at Spencer's crotch through his jeans and tugs his belt lose without waiting for another word.
"I fucking love being on my knees for you sometimes," Jon breathes against Spencer's thigh, and fuck, there's really no way Spencer can say no to that. Ever.
Although, he really doesn't have to say no, because Jon's not waiting for him to say yes; he simply opens Spencer's fly and pulls out his cock, and if Spencer wasn't hard before, he certainly is now, hi.
Jon swallows him sloppily, groaning as Spencer slides across the inside of his cheek. Spencer closes his eyes and starts trying to recite the times tables in his head. He concentrates really hard on not moving, on just staying still.
But when his hips buck forward without asking his brain first, Jon moans happily, and the sound vibrates through Spencer's whole body. He's only human.
There's no pretense of holding back after that. Jon's thumbs press hard into Spencer's hipbones, and everything's slick and wet; he moans Spencer's name, deep in his throat.
Before Spencer can stop himself, he wonders how deep down Jon's throat he can get. The thought immediately freaks him out, because he's not really all that sober, and he's running the risk of choking Jon. Another thought follows on the heels of the first one, which freaks him out even more: a little part of his brain wouldn't mind it if Jon were choking, just a little bit.
Oh, god, he really shouldn't, but. Spencer pushes his hips up, slides deeper into Jon's mouth even as he says, "Sorry, sorry," pushing further still.
"Yes," Jon gasps, mouth going slack. "Yeah, c'mon."
Spencer reaches down and grabs at Jon's head, tries to lace his fingers through his hair. But Jon's hair is too short, so Spencer just presses his fingers against Jon's skull and guides him forward. And it's the way Jon's face softens a little, the way his jaw widens, the way his lips are fucking glistening around his cock, that makes Spencer drop his head back against the couch and moan, thrusting his hips, forcing himself deep into Jon's mouth. He feels so fucking dirty and is still freaking out within the confines of his mind, but he can't help it, especially when Jon's thumbs dig into his hipbones almost painfully.
The alcohol and pot are adding to it, making everything fuzzy and loose in his head. Spencer knows he should be stopping now, that maybe this has gone far enough, but Jon's making contented little noises and urging him on with his grip on Spencer's hips. And then, suddenly, he's sucking at him, hard, his cheeks hollowing out, as if he's daring Spencer to go deeper.
Spencer would be better equipped to resist if Jon weren't also looking up at him through his lashes, his cheeks flushed and his pupils blown. Every inch of him is asking for more, and Spencer, god, Spencer gives it to him.
He reaches his other hand down to brush his thumb over Jon's cheek, and he leaves his hand there when he starts to thrust again so that he can feel himself move inside Jon's mouth. Jon's skin is damp, too hot, pink under Spencer's fingers, and Spencer just really, really needs to come. It's weird, because Jon's so fucking hot like this, but it's easier than usual for Spencer to keep it under control.
Except...Jon's really fucking hot like this. He starts mumbling, "C'mon, c'mon," mouth full, and his face just looks so blissed out, like all he wants in the world is to be here, on his knees with Spencer's cock buried in his mouth.
Spencer's happy to oblige.
He rubs his thumb over Jon's cheek before moving his hand back to Jon's head, holding him steady. He starts out slow, just rutting forward to rub the head of his cock over the soft sweep of Jon's tongue. Jon holds still, keeps his jaw loose and open, until Spencer gradually picks up a rhythm, rocking his hips forward until he feels his cock hit the back of Jon's throat, which. Fuck. Feels so good, even better when Jon tilts his head further back and just. Opens. Around him.
And then Jon groans, like he's dying, and then he's sucking Spencer again, deeper into his mouth, eyelashes fluttering along his flushed cheeks. Jon gets quiet after that, but only because Spencer finally works his cock all the way inside, as deep as he can get.
Spencer feels the way Jon's reflexes are setting in, the way Jon struggles to keep from gagging. It's. It's unbelievably hot, god, but it shouldn't be at all. There are tiny little puffs of air coming from Jon's nose pressed against Spencer's stomach, and Spencer can feel where his balls are barely brushing Jon's chin, and, fuck.
He pulls back to give Jon a chance to take a breath, but pushes right back in before Jon's quite finished, because the suction is just so fucking good, he can't think straight anymore. He needs it, and the realization is sudden, overwhelming.
"I'm gonna come soon," he says to Jon. Then, "Fuck, your mouth."
Jon groans loudly around Spencer's cock.
"You - you can come, too, just - " Spencer waves his hand in the general direction of Jon's fly, and Jon smiles. He shakes his head, mouth still full.
Spencer works back into his original rhythm; he pulls far enough out that Jon has time to gasp for air before pushing all the way back in. He feels hot all over, completely overwhelmed by the heat and the wet andohgodfuck around his cock, but at the same time, it's easy to focus, easy to focus on Jon. He's sliding so easily now out of Jon's mouth, and there's saliva everywhere, everything's so slick and hot and fuckfuckfuckJon'smouth -
"Gonna come," Spencer says, low and rough.
"Fuck, yeah," Jon gasps just as Spencer thrusts all the way in, too hard, and Spencer yells a stream of profanity that may or may not end with his voice cracking around Jon's name. He comes so hard, he's on the verge of passing out as he slumps back against the couch, eyes barely open to watch Jon's throat convulse as he swallows and licks Spencer clean, looking up at him as he kisses Spencer's cock as it starts to soften.
Jon's hips are making short, involuntary thrusts against the edge of the couch. Spencer can see the very stark, very obvious outline of Jon's erection, and there's a small wet spot showing through his jeans.
"Are you close, Jon?" Spencer whispers. "Are you going to come like that? Rubbing up against the couch?"
If possible, Jon's eyes go even darker, and he finally lets Spencer's cock slip out of his mouth. "I - "
"You can, I wanna see you. Tell me what you're thinking." Spencer barely has the mental capacity to form words, but he wants to see this, see Jon come without having to touch him.
"I'm thinking - " Jon's voice cracks completely. "I'm thinking about - " His voice is raw as fuck, and from the way he's still staring at Spencer's cock, it's pretty obvious what he's thinking about.
Spencer reaches down, rubs his thumb over Jon's swollen lips, and says, "You're still thinking about my cock in your mouth?"
Jon nods slowly and licks his lips.
"Is that all?"
"The - the sounds you make, when I suck you, god. They're so hot, Spencer, you sound so fucking hot when I take you all the way down, like you can't help it." Jon is panting, grinding up against the couch, his hands splayed on the cushions on either side of Spencer's hips.
"You look," Spencer says, slow and deliberate, "so fucking good when you're on your knees."
Jon drops his head back and moans. "Oh shit, Spence - ," and then he's slamming his hips up into the couch in an uneven rhythm, and when he comes, his whole face goes soft and his mouth is open, slack, skin shiny with sweat.
"Fuck," Spencer murmurs, dropping down onto the floor and pulling Jon in close. "Oh fuck, Jon."
And he knows Jon's lips are tender and sore, but he has to kiss him, right now. They tumble onto the carpet, Spencer on his back with Jon draped over his chest, still gasping for breath as his orgasm fades, and they kiss and kiss until Jon winces and pulls back.
Spencer blinks up at him, hazy and content, his own taste in his mouth. "Sorry," he says again, sweeping his hand up into Jon's hair and scrubbing his nails lightly against his scalp.
"Stop apologizing." Jon finally smiles, drops his chin to rest on Spencer's chest. "Just...don't expect me to sing you an aria anytime soon."
"Deal."
A minute later, they're both out cold.
disarm_d and I wrote the other night. Unbeta'd, so all the mistakes are mine in the editing process. Also, Laura's running a Bandom Goes Down (Baby's First Oral) Meme here if you're really in the mood for more BJs. :Dfor a taste
[Jon/Spencer, 1650 words, NC-17 (very)]
by
foxxcub and disarm_dIt's like a switch is flipped in Jon's brain, and suddenly he's crawling over Spencer, nuzzling his way up Spencer's body until he's hovers over his stomach and says into his shirt, "C'mon, Spence, I can take it, I just need to taste you."
With just the right combination of Jack and pot, Jon sort of becomes addicted to Spencer's cock.
Not that Spencer's spent any considerable time trying to figure out the exact combination or anything. It just happens sometimes, especially when they're alone in Spencer's house, sprawled across Spencer's suede sofa with a spent joint sitting in the ash tray and a half empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table.
It's like a switch is flipped in Jon's brain, and suddenly he's crawling over Spencer, nuzzling his way up Spencer's body until he's hovers over his stomach and says into his shirt, "C'mon, Spence, I can take it, I just need your cock in my mouth, need to taste you."
Spencer, to his credit, makes a valiant attempt to huff and push Jon away. "No, okay? I'm too wasted, I won't be able to hold back."
But Jon has already sunk to his knees on the carpet, facing the couch as he drags Spencer's legs over, fits himself between Spencer's thighs. He mouths at Spencer's crotch through his jeans and tugs his belt lose without waiting for another word.
"I fucking love being on my knees for you sometimes," Jon breathes against Spencer's thigh, and fuck, there's really no way Spencer can say no to that. Ever.
Although, he really doesn't have to say no, because Jon's not waiting for him to say yes; he simply opens Spencer's fly and pulls out his cock, and if Spencer wasn't hard before, he certainly is now, hi.
Jon swallows him sloppily, groaning as Spencer slides across the inside of his cheek. Spencer closes his eyes and starts trying to recite the times tables in his head. He concentrates really hard on not moving, on just staying still.
But when his hips buck forward without asking his brain first, Jon moans happily, and the sound vibrates through Spencer's whole body. He's only human.
There's no pretense of holding back after that. Jon's thumbs press hard into Spencer's hipbones, and everything's slick and wet; he moans Spencer's name, deep in his throat.
Before Spencer can stop himself, he wonders how deep down Jon's throat he can get. The thought immediately freaks him out, because he's not really all that sober, and he's running the risk of choking Jon. Another thought follows on the heels of the first one, which freaks him out even more: a little part of his brain wouldn't mind it if Jon were choking, just a little bit.
Oh, god, he really shouldn't, but. Spencer pushes his hips up, slides deeper into Jon's mouth even as he says, "Sorry, sorry," pushing further still.
"Yes," Jon gasps, mouth going slack. "Yeah, c'mon."
Spencer reaches down and grabs at Jon's head, tries to lace his fingers through his hair. But Jon's hair is too short, so Spencer just presses his fingers against Jon's skull and guides him forward. And it's the way Jon's face softens a little, the way his jaw widens, the way his lips are fucking glistening around his cock, that makes Spencer drop his head back against the couch and moan, thrusting his hips, forcing himself deep into Jon's mouth. He feels so fucking dirty and is still freaking out within the confines of his mind, but he can't help it, especially when Jon's thumbs dig into his hipbones almost painfully.
The alcohol and pot are adding to it, making everything fuzzy and loose in his head. Spencer knows he should be stopping now, that maybe this has gone far enough, but Jon's making contented little noises and urging him on with his grip on Spencer's hips. And then, suddenly, he's sucking at him, hard, his cheeks hollowing out, as if he's daring Spencer to go deeper.
Spencer would be better equipped to resist if Jon weren't also looking up at him through his lashes, his cheeks flushed and his pupils blown. Every inch of him is asking for more, and Spencer, god, Spencer gives it to him.
He reaches his other hand down to brush his thumb over Jon's cheek, and he leaves his hand there when he starts to thrust again so that he can feel himself move inside Jon's mouth. Jon's skin is damp, too hot, pink under Spencer's fingers, and Spencer just really, really needs to come. It's weird, because Jon's so fucking hot like this, but it's easier than usual for Spencer to keep it under control.
Except...Jon's really fucking hot like this. He starts mumbling, "C'mon, c'mon," mouth full, and his face just looks so blissed out, like all he wants in the world is to be here, on his knees with Spencer's cock buried in his mouth.
Spencer's happy to oblige.
He rubs his thumb over Jon's cheek before moving his hand back to Jon's head, holding him steady. He starts out slow, just rutting forward to rub the head of his cock over the soft sweep of Jon's tongue. Jon holds still, keeps his jaw loose and open, until Spencer gradually picks up a rhythm, rocking his hips forward until he feels his cock hit the back of Jon's throat, which. Fuck. Feels so good, even better when Jon tilts his head further back and just. Opens. Around him.
And then Jon groans, like he's dying, and then he's sucking Spencer again, deeper into his mouth, eyelashes fluttering along his flushed cheeks. Jon gets quiet after that, but only because Spencer finally works his cock all the way inside, as deep as he can get.
Spencer feels the way Jon's reflexes are setting in, the way Jon struggles to keep from gagging. It's. It's unbelievably hot, god, but it shouldn't be at all. There are tiny little puffs of air coming from Jon's nose pressed against Spencer's stomach, and Spencer can feel where his balls are barely brushing Jon's chin, and, fuck.
He pulls back to give Jon a chance to take a breath, but pushes right back in before Jon's quite finished, because the suction is just so fucking good, he can't think straight anymore. He needs it, and the realization is sudden, overwhelming.
"I'm gonna come soon," he says to Jon. Then, "Fuck, your mouth."
Jon groans loudly around Spencer's cock.
"You - you can come, too, just - " Spencer waves his hand in the general direction of Jon's fly, and Jon smiles. He shakes his head, mouth still full.
Spencer works back into his original rhythm; he pulls far enough out that Jon has time to gasp for air before pushing all the way back in. He feels hot all over, completely overwhelmed by the heat and the wet andohgodfuck around his cock, but at the same time, it's easy to focus, easy to focus on Jon. He's sliding so easily now out of Jon's mouth, and there's saliva everywhere, everything's so slick and hot and fuckfuckfuckJon'smouth -
"Gonna come," Spencer says, low and rough.
"Fuck, yeah," Jon gasps just as Spencer thrusts all the way in, too hard, and Spencer yells a stream of profanity that may or may not end with his voice cracking around Jon's name. He comes so hard, he's on the verge of passing out as he slumps back against the couch, eyes barely open to watch Jon's throat convulse as he swallows and licks Spencer clean, looking up at him as he kisses Spencer's cock as it starts to soften.
Jon's hips are making short, involuntary thrusts against the edge of the couch. Spencer can see the very stark, very obvious outline of Jon's erection, and there's a small wet spot showing through his jeans.
"Are you close, Jon?" Spencer whispers. "Are you going to come like that? Rubbing up against the couch?"
If possible, Jon's eyes go even darker, and he finally lets Spencer's cock slip out of his mouth. "I - "
"You can, I wanna see you. Tell me what you're thinking." Spencer barely has the mental capacity to form words, but he wants to see this, see Jon come without having to touch him.
"I'm thinking - " Jon's voice cracks completely. "I'm thinking about - " His voice is raw as fuck, and from the way he's still staring at Spencer's cock, it's pretty obvious what he's thinking about.
Spencer reaches down, rubs his thumb over Jon's swollen lips, and says, "You're still thinking about my cock in your mouth?"
Jon nods slowly and licks his lips.
"Is that all?"
"The - the sounds you make, when I suck you, god. They're so hot, Spencer, you sound so fucking hot when I take you all the way down, like you can't help it." Jon is panting, grinding up against the couch, his hands splayed on the cushions on either side of Spencer's hips.
"You look," Spencer says, slow and deliberate, "so fucking good when you're on your knees."
Jon drops his head back and moans. "Oh shit, Spence - ," and then he's slamming his hips up into the couch in an uneven rhythm, and when he comes, his whole face goes soft and his mouth is open, slack, skin shiny with sweat.
"Fuck," Spencer murmurs, dropping down onto the floor and pulling Jon in close. "Oh fuck, Jon."
And he knows Jon's lips are tender and sore, but he has to kiss him, right now. They tumble onto the carpet, Spencer on his back with Jon draped over his chest, still gasping for breath as his orgasm fades, and they kiss and kiss until Jon winces and pulls back.
Spencer blinks up at him, hazy and content, his own taste in his mouth. "Sorry," he says again, sweeping his hand up into Jon's hair and scrubbing his nails lightly against his scalp.
"Stop apologizing." Jon finally smiles, drops his chin to rest on Spencer's chest. "Just...don't expect me to sing you an aria anytime soon."
"Deal."
A minute later, they're both out cold.