#15 “School Girl” (Ash Maverik and Erik Maverik, Original)
Pairing/Fandom: Ash/Erik, original
Theme: 15. The Bordello, or, "Dude Looks Like a Lady of the Night."
Title: School Girl
Author/Artist: sumthinlikhuman
Disclaimer: Ashton and Erik Maverik, and all characters and fictional locations associated with the two, are my property, and are not to be reproduced in any fashion without my direct and specific permission. That means that if you so much as think about stealing them, I will be on your ass so fast, you won’t even know what hit you.
Warnings: minors involved
Note: Takes place about a month after “Feeling”; still sixteen.
“You want me to do what!?”
Ashton held up the skirt imploringly, grinning like a fiend. A stock-girl was watching them with a strange sort of bewildered fright, obviously half listening to their half shouted argument.
“It's your color.”
“It's a fucking skirt, Ashy!” Erik bit nastily, glaring over his shoulder as he rifled through the clearance shirts. “Put it back and stop trying to get me into-.”
“It comes with a cute shirt. And a little tie!” Erik glared daggers at his twin, his cheeks bright red and his mouth gabbing uselessly. Ash smiled smartly, adjusting his glasses and jiggling the hangers at his twin winningly. “We don't have to buy them. Just try them on for me?”
“You're sick in the head,” Erik hissed, and Ash knew he was watching over his shoulder as the stock-girl strolled about.
He shoved the clothing into Erik's hands, turned him, and marched him smartly toward the dressing room, Erik digging in his heels every step of the way.
“No-! Ashton James Maverik, I absolutely refuse-.” Ash let his hands wander along Erik's side, eliciting a startled, shrill peel a laughter. “Stop it!”
“Try on the outfit for me, baby?” Ash whispered imploringly, leaning in gently and nibbling at Erik's earrings gently. “I'll make it worth your while. I'll even help you get 'em on and off.”
Erik peered cautiously half over his shoulder, raising one pierced brow slowly. “Help get it off?”
“Yupper.”
“Oh really?”
“Will you just get in there before somebody notices?” Ash rolled his eyes, shoving Erik toward the changing rooms a bit faster-standing a bit closer, so with each step their hips jostled pleasantly. Erik let out an uncontrollable, rather hysterical giggle; the clerk-lady gave them a strange expression, asking how many items there were.
“Four,” Erik squeaked after he'd counted the hangers. Ash grinned against his ear gently, quickly following him into one of the cubicles before the clerk-lady could drag him away and make him wait outside.
Ash shushed his twin needlessly, hands diving for Erik's jeans and unzipping them gently. He palmed Erik's slowly perking cock as the younger twin, a blush flaming on his cheeks, removed the panties and bra from their hanger.
“Cute, aren't they?” Ash whispered, rubbing against Erik's hip.
“You're sick,” Erik grumbled. Ash pushed his jeans off slowly, tugging his boxers after them as he knelt to remove Erik's boots. Erik stared down at him stupidly, cock half-hard from dark curls; Ash smiled at him, grabbing the panties.
“Left leg.” Erik dutifully lifted his leg, letting Ash slip the thin cotton around his ankle. “Right.” And the action was repeated. With mocking care, Ash tugged the panties up Erik's sinuous legs, caressing the skin in brief, teasing touches. He smoothed the cotton as best he could over Erik's cock; the younger twin hissed in a breath, glaring at Ash accusingly.
“Don't,” he hissed. Ash grinned, grabbed the bra from Erik's lax fingers, 'helping' his twin into it. Erik frowned, plucking at the cotton. “Training bra?”
“It woulda looked funny if I'd grabbed you a cup,” Ash justified. “Gimme the shirt.”
“Fuck you.” But Erik handed over the pink cotton shirt. He looked away from his twin, away from the mirrors. He hoped there were no surveillance camera, or else some old fucker of a security guard was going to get quite the show.
Ash's fingers raced delicately over Erik's torso, smoothing the button-down gently over muscles that seemed, to Erik, to bulge inappropriately under the fabric. He grabbed the skirt from it's hanger-all pink-and-green plaid and lightly ruffled lace hemming, pleated, looking like it would barely cover Erik's panty-clad ass. Maybe that was the point. Ash pushed Erik onto the bench, kneeling before him again and sliding the skirt over his ankles-calves-up to his thighs. Erik shifted from hip to hip, letting Ash settle the fabric. The lace itched.
Slowly, Erik stood. Ash grabbed the tie, and quickly went through the motions they'd been taught as young children on tying one. He tugged it gently, until it pressed against Erik's throat threateningly.
“See?” He turned Erik to face the mirror, tilted his chin up and made him look. “Ain't you just a pretty little bitch.”
“Ash-,” Erik hissed angrily. But Ash wasn't listening. His hand had slid up the back of the skirt, and there were fingers toying along the edge of the panties.
“Pretty little school-girl.” His hand slid around, still half hidden beneath the skirt, and he groped roughly at Erik's dick, rubbing the cotton against the skin, making Erik shudder and breathe heavily in a long sigh. “Fuck,” he hissed against Erik's ear, rubbing against him with a daring abandon, “I want you so bad, Rik-rik.”
“Shit, Ashy,” Erik grumbled, shivering slightly. He grabbed Ash's wrist, trying to tug his treacherous hand away from his hard cock, using his other hand to reach around for the zipper on the skirt. The sooner he was out of this, the sooner he could think about-.
Ash lifted the back of the skirt, one hand holding it up, the other pushing at the elastic of the panties. Erik, stunned by teasing caresses along his ass, braced his hands on the mirror and let out a shuddering breath.
“Ashy,” he husked, peering over his shoulder. “Shit, Ashy, what if-?”
“Just be quiet,” Ash advised, and grabbed Erik's jacket, throwing it at his head. He knelt behind his brother, hands kneading the pink cotton panties intimately. “Fuck, you look good.”
“Thought you didn't like girls,” Erik muttered, mostly muffled by his jacket. Ash just kind of chuckled, slowly tugging the panties to the side. He rose fluidly, let the skirt fall over his hand, and let his free hand trail over what was exposed of Erik's ass, and then between-.
Erik muffled his cry, swearing sharply, pushing his hips back against the teasing caress.
Ash was chuckling against his ear, rocking his hips, burying his fingers deep in Erik's body and twisting, making Erik writhe and moan into his jacket. He asked, very softly, “Who said that?” and worried a line of kisses and light bites along his twin's neck.
It took a bit of maneuvering, before he had his jeans undone and pushed down away from his cock; and Erik was gasping and spreading his legs and begging quietly for more and please, fuck, now Ashy and other plaintive missives. Ash smiled, kissing the back of Erik's neck, right above the collar of the shirt he was wearing. He palmed his younger twin through the panties, slowly easing himself deeply into Erik's body, uttering a deep, rumbling moan.
“Fuck,” Erik hissed, than uttered a throaty little chuckle, managing to look over his shoulder for a second and quietly murmur, “That clerk better not be out there pervin' it up, Ashton-.”
Ash kissed him possessively to shut him up, rotating his hips purposefully. It took a moment before he had a steady, rolling rhythm going with his hips, and then he was gripping Erik's hips and pulling him back for punishing strokes.
Erik groaned, deep in his throat, trying to balance against his twin and the smooth slide of the mirror before him-and wasn't that just a sight. He couldn't see much, but the flush on his face and the sight of himself in drag and his brother rocking against him was enough to have him smother a harsh cry in his jacket and screw his eyes shut.
If anybody came back, wondering why it was taking so long, or what all the noise was about-.
Erik got distracted when Ash swore and suddenly sat on the fitting room bench that was still littered with clothing. He bit back a yelp as Ash's cock slid, hard and deep, further into him, and allowed himself to be slowly risen from Ash's lap to bounce. Ash's breath was hot and harried against his back, split with sloppy kisses through the shirt-“Shit, Ashy, don't do that,” Erik wanted to grumble, but couldn't quite find the words, because it felt damn good, what they were doing, no matter how dangerous it was.
Ash flipped up the skirt, palming Erik's hard cock through the panties and grinning against his neck. Erik looked up at the mirror, panting, and grabbed for anything to smother the moan working its way out of his throat in keening bursts.
There was a soft knock on the changing room door, and the clerk asking if there was anything the matter. Ash covered Erik's mouth instantly, still guiding his movements, ignoring the kisses and nips and the smooth lave of his twin's tongue over his palm; he said, “We're fine!” in the most chipper voice he could manage, and watched the feet move away from the door slowly.
“Fuck,” Erik muttered against Ash's palm, biting a little. Ash chuckled against his neck, nipping softly.
“We should stop, shouldn't we?”
“Oh, fuck-.” Ash was already helping Erik off, smoothing the panties into their proper place. Erik glared over his shoulder at Ash, sticking his tongue out childish before chiding, “You're gonna pay for this-.”
“You mean I get to buy the outfit for you?” Ash sounded all together too pleased. Erik swore, and grumbled.
“Not what I meant.” Ash kissed him possessively, pushing him against the mirror and grinding against him a bit. They were both still hard, and the bit of friction had them gasping and Ash promising, “When we get back to the hotel.”
“Do I have to wear the skirt?”
Ash laughed, and left the changing room. Erik swore, and leaned against the mirror, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
What had they gotten themselves into?
Theme: 15. The Bordello, or, "Dude Looks Like a Lady of the Night."
Title: School Girl
Author/Artist: sumthinlikhuman
Disclaimer: Ashton and Erik Maverik, and all characters and fictional locations associated with the two, are my property, and are not to be reproduced in any fashion without my direct and specific permission. That means that if you so much as think about stealing them, I will be on your ass so fast, you won’t even know what hit you.
Warnings: minors involved
Note: Takes place about a month after “Feeling”; still sixteen.
“You want me to do what!?”
Ashton held up the skirt imploringly, grinning like a fiend. A stock-girl was watching them with a strange sort of bewildered fright, obviously half listening to their half shouted argument.
“It's your color.”
“It's a fucking skirt, Ashy!” Erik bit nastily, glaring over his shoulder as he rifled through the clearance shirts. “Put it back and stop trying to get me into-.”
“It comes with a cute shirt. And a little tie!” Erik glared daggers at his twin, his cheeks bright red and his mouth gabbing uselessly. Ash smiled smartly, adjusting his glasses and jiggling the hangers at his twin winningly. “We don't have to buy them. Just try them on for me?”
“You're sick in the head,” Erik hissed, and Ash knew he was watching over his shoulder as the stock-girl strolled about.
He shoved the clothing into Erik's hands, turned him, and marched him smartly toward the dressing room, Erik digging in his heels every step of the way.
“No-! Ashton James Maverik, I absolutely refuse-.” Ash let his hands wander along Erik's side, eliciting a startled, shrill peel a laughter. “Stop it!”
“Try on the outfit for me, baby?” Ash whispered imploringly, leaning in gently and nibbling at Erik's earrings gently. “I'll make it worth your while. I'll even help you get 'em on and off.”
Erik peered cautiously half over his shoulder, raising one pierced brow slowly. “Help get it off?”
“Yupper.”
“Oh really?”
“Will you just get in there before somebody notices?” Ash rolled his eyes, shoving Erik toward the changing rooms a bit faster-standing a bit closer, so with each step their hips jostled pleasantly. Erik let out an uncontrollable, rather hysterical giggle; the clerk-lady gave them a strange expression, asking how many items there were.
“Four,” Erik squeaked after he'd counted the hangers. Ash grinned against his ear gently, quickly following him into one of the cubicles before the clerk-lady could drag him away and make him wait outside.
Ash shushed his twin needlessly, hands diving for Erik's jeans and unzipping them gently. He palmed Erik's slowly perking cock as the younger twin, a blush flaming on his cheeks, removed the panties and bra from their hanger.
“Cute, aren't they?” Ash whispered, rubbing against Erik's hip.
“You're sick,” Erik grumbled. Ash pushed his jeans off slowly, tugging his boxers after them as he knelt to remove Erik's boots. Erik stared down at him stupidly, cock half-hard from dark curls; Ash smiled at him, grabbing the panties.
“Left leg.” Erik dutifully lifted his leg, letting Ash slip the thin cotton around his ankle. “Right.” And the action was repeated. With mocking care, Ash tugged the panties up Erik's sinuous legs, caressing the skin in brief, teasing touches. He smoothed the cotton as best he could over Erik's cock; the younger twin hissed in a breath, glaring at Ash accusingly.
“Don't,” he hissed. Ash grinned, grabbed the bra from Erik's lax fingers, 'helping' his twin into it. Erik frowned, plucking at the cotton. “Training bra?”
“It woulda looked funny if I'd grabbed you a cup,” Ash justified. “Gimme the shirt.”
“Fuck you.” But Erik handed over the pink cotton shirt. He looked away from his twin, away from the mirrors. He hoped there were no surveillance camera, or else some old fucker of a security guard was going to get quite the show.
Ash's fingers raced delicately over Erik's torso, smoothing the button-down gently over muscles that seemed, to Erik, to bulge inappropriately under the fabric. He grabbed the skirt from it's hanger-all pink-and-green plaid and lightly ruffled lace hemming, pleated, looking like it would barely cover Erik's panty-clad ass. Maybe that was the point. Ash pushed Erik onto the bench, kneeling before him again and sliding the skirt over his ankles-calves-up to his thighs. Erik shifted from hip to hip, letting Ash settle the fabric. The lace itched.
Slowly, Erik stood. Ash grabbed the tie, and quickly went through the motions they'd been taught as young children on tying one. He tugged it gently, until it pressed against Erik's throat threateningly.
“See?” He turned Erik to face the mirror, tilted his chin up and made him look. “Ain't you just a pretty little bitch.”
“Ash-,” Erik hissed angrily. But Ash wasn't listening. His hand had slid up the back of the skirt, and there were fingers toying along the edge of the panties.
“Pretty little school-girl.” His hand slid around, still half hidden beneath the skirt, and he groped roughly at Erik's dick, rubbing the cotton against the skin, making Erik shudder and breathe heavily in a long sigh. “Fuck,” he hissed against Erik's ear, rubbing against him with a daring abandon, “I want you so bad, Rik-rik.”
“Shit, Ashy,” Erik grumbled, shivering slightly. He grabbed Ash's wrist, trying to tug his treacherous hand away from his hard cock, using his other hand to reach around for the zipper on the skirt. The sooner he was out of this, the sooner he could think about-.
Ash lifted the back of the skirt, one hand holding it up, the other pushing at the elastic of the panties. Erik, stunned by teasing caresses along his ass, braced his hands on the mirror and let out a shuddering breath.
“Ashy,” he husked, peering over his shoulder. “Shit, Ashy, what if-?”
“Just be quiet,” Ash advised, and grabbed Erik's jacket, throwing it at his head. He knelt behind his brother, hands kneading the pink cotton panties intimately. “Fuck, you look good.”
“Thought you didn't like girls,” Erik muttered, mostly muffled by his jacket. Ash just kind of chuckled, slowly tugging the panties to the side. He rose fluidly, let the skirt fall over his hand, and let his free hand trail over what was exposed of Erik's ass, and then between-.
Erik muffled his cry, swearing sharply, pushing his hips back against the teasing caress.
Ash was chuckling against his ear, rocking his hips, burying his fingers deep in Erik's body and twisting, making Erik writhe and moan into his jacket. He asked, very softly, “Who said that?” and worried a line of kisses and light bites along his twin's neck.
It took a bit of maneuvering, before he had his jeans undone and pushed down away from his cock; and Erik was gasping and spreading his legs and begging quietly for more and please, fuck, now Ashy and other plaintive missives. Ash smiled, kissing the back of Erik's neck, right above the collar of the shirt he was wearing. He palmed his younger twin through the panties, slowly easing himself deeply into Erik's body, uttering a deep, rumbling moan.
“Fuck,” Erik hissed, than uttered a throaty little chuckle, managing to look over his shoulder for a second and quietly murmur, “That clerk better not be out there pervin' it up, Ashton-.”
Ash kissed him possessively to shut him up, rotating his hips purposefully. It took a moment before he had a steady, rolling rhythm going with his hips, and then he was gripping Erik's hips and pulling him back for punishing strokes.
Erik groaned, deep in his throat, trying to balance against his twin and the smooth slide of the mirror before him-and wasn't that just a sight. He couldn't see much, but the flush on his face and the sight of himself in drag and his brother rocking against him was enough to have him smother a harsh cry in his jacket and screw his eyes shut.
If anybody came back, wondering why it was taking so long, or what all the noise was about-.
Erik got distracted when Ash swore and suddenly sat on the fitting room bench that was still littered with clothing. He bit back a yelp as Ash's cock slid, hard and deep, further into him, and allowed himself to be slowly risen from Ash's lap to bounce. Ash's breath was hot and harried against his back, split with sloppy kisses through the shirt-“Shit, Ashy, don't do that,” Erik wanted to grumble, but couldn't quite find the words, because it felt damn good, what they were doing, no matter how dangerous it was.
Ash flipped up the skirt, palming Erik's hard cock through the panties and grinning against his neck. Erik looked up at the mirror, panting, and grabbed for anything to smother the moan working its way out of his throat in keening bursts.
There was a soft knock on the changing room door, and the clerk asking if there was anything the matter. Ash covered Erik's mouth instantly, still guiding his movements, ignoring the kisses and nips and the smooth lave of his twin's tongue over his palm; he said, “We're fine!” in the most chipper voice he could manage, and watched the feet move away from the door slowly.
“Fuck,” Erik muttered against Ash's palm, biting a little. Ash chuckled against his neck, nipping softly.
“We should stop, shouldn't we?”
“Oh, fuck-.” Ash was already helping Erik off, smoothing the panties into their proper place. Erik glared over his shoulder at Ash, sticking his tongue out childish before chiding, “You're gonna pay for this-.”
“You mean I get to buy the outfit for you?” Ash sounded all together too pleased. Erik swore, and grumbled.
“Not what I meant.” Ash kissed him possessively, pushing him against the mirror and grinding against him a bit. They were both still hard, and the bit of friction had them gasping and Ash promising, “When we get back to the hotel.”
“Do I have to wear the skirt?”
Ash laughed, and left the changing room. Erik swore, and leaned against the mirror, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
What had they gotten themselves into?