Snapshots
Title: Snapshots
Fandom: McFly
Pairing: FletcherJudd, Fludd
Part: 1/1
Rating: Nc-17/18, right from the off
Word Count: 2,089
Summary: I think the title pretty much sums this one up
You gasp loudly, biting down on your bottom lip, your eyes scrunching up as I push into you, your muscles pushing back against me, not wanting to let me in, but you don’t tell me to stop. Instead, you kiss me back when I lean down and press my lips against yours reassuringly, your arms snaking their way around my neck, pulling me tighter against you, deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into my mouth.
I resist the urge to start thrusting into you right away, waiting until you’re comfortable with the feel of me inside you and tell me start - but you feel so amazing, your walls clutching my erection tightly, that it’s hard. Even then I try my best to start out slowly, giving you as much chance to loosen up as possible, reminding myself of the position of your prostate and adjusting myself accordingly so I can hit it with almost every trust, loving how you gasp my name into my mouth whenever I do so.
I can’t help but quickly speed up, however, my cock slipping easily in and out of your stretch hole, sweat sliding between us and your own erection rubbing again my stomach.
The heat of our bodies’ melds into one until it becomes hard to tell where I end and you begin, your hips bucking upwards against mine, forcing me as far into you as possible. It’s not long before you come, all over both our chests, and hearing you moan out in ecstasy is all it takes to push me over the edge as well. I collapse on top of you, the sweat and spunk covering both chests sticking together and mixing into a gluey mess.
I know that before long you’ll have to get up and go to wash it off - but for now you’re content to feel my weight on top of you as I dot feather kisses along your jaw, my hands running through your sweaty hair.
I think that maybe when you move, insisting you need to shower, I can join you and we could possibly have a little fun, then that little bit of fun could possibly develop into more sex. I take a moment to imagine it - falling out of the shower and back into your bedroom to begin again - a wild, never ending cycle. Sex, shower, sex shower…
Seems like a pretty good idea to me.
You surprise me however, but not moving immediately, instead you tilt you head to catch one of my kisses with your lips, and instantly I feel your tongue touching mine.
This, I decide, is perfection. Just you and me, here - I can’t think of anything better. I never can when I’m with you.
Yet this little piece of perfection in only a tiny piece of everything we are.
***
The next morning it’s up early for a television interview - both of us reluctant to move from the warmth and comfort of the others embrace, even though generally we’re early risers.
Well, compared to Danny and Dougie, anyway.
An few hours later under the hot lights, surrounded on three sides by screaming, practically hysterical, kids half our age, and sat with an interviewer who doesn’t act much older, answering questions that are the same old same old and, as usual, you’re taking control of most of the answers, even if they’re not aimed at you. Not that you really have much choice, knowing I’ll probably be completely sarcastic or patronising (not that anyone around here has enough of a brain to notice), Danny’ll just say something stupid and it’s never safe to let Dougie speak.
I find this is a situation that suits me fine, however, as it leaves me free to watch you out of the corner of my eye, aware of the way you gesture as you talk, hearing how sincere you sound - more so than the rest of us can ever manage. At times like this I can’t help but admire you; you take these stupid TV shows and their stupid antics in your stride so well, answering questions like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard them, while I can usually be nothing but sarcastic, wishing for once that they’d ask us something new, or at least a little original. This you is so different from my you, but still so amazing, that I can’t help but be in awe.
Then the interviewer says something, something they surely mean as a joke, or at least completely innocently, but I know that we have all taken entirely the wrong way, and you flash me a look, a look that says ‘we are so doing that the second we get out of here,’ and I grin.
The interviewer continues, completely oblivious, but I know Danny and Dougie caught the moment that just passed between us, and doubtless the camera did too, but that’s just another part of what we are - secret looks and hidden meanings, little moments that are ours and ours alone - things that remind us of who we really are underneath the cloak of all this pretence that we must wear while we’re under the media spotlight.
***
A week later, when I get a phone call full of bad news from my parents, you’re there with me, curled up on the sofa. You know instantly that something’s wrong, even though you can only hear one end of the conversation, you know me well enough to be able to tell from my body language, the way my body stiffens, and the tone of my voice changes, and when I hang up you’re there ready to hold me, no questions asked, leaving it up to me to decide if I’m comfortable to relate to you what I’ve just been told, knowing that if I’m going to tell anyone it’ll be you.
As I tell you that my brother has had a serious car accident and is currently lying unconscious in a hospital my voice breaks, and I feel in that moment that I am at my most vulnerable; I have let you in further than any one else has ever managed to get, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
In the past I would’ve wanted to retreat to my room and the security of my own company to come to terms with this - but now I discover it is far preferable to remain here with you, curled up against the comfort of your chest like a child, your arms around me as you kiss the top of my head and reassure me that we’ll go up and see him first thing in the morning.
I find that the tears of worry fall easily, but I’m not embarrassed to cry in your presence, as this occasional need for comfort is just another part of what we are, and there is not a single part of me I’m not prepared to show you. I think it shows and, for the first time in my life, I fell completely free.
***
I think I could really kill you when you tell me what you’ve planned as part of our next video - a performance naked - but you just grin at me teasingly, your eyes flashing playfully as I chase you through the house before we end up as a pile of tangled limbs on the living room floor.
You think it’s a fantastic idea of course - not only are you eager to show off since you’ve slimmed down, but you also delight in knowing how easily you’ll be able to tease me in such a situation - you’ve always been able to control your desires more than me, and knowing that I’ll be crazy with pent up sexual frustration by the end of it is an idea you find highly entertaining.
On the day, the set is cramped, being that it is supposed to be a storage cupboard, and the heat radiating from the four of us, not to mention all the crew members jammed in there, is making the temperature fairly uncomfortable.
I’m slightly nervous, I’ll admit, of stripping down completely - even though I’ve been running round the set in just my boxers already. Well, who can blame me for being desperate to tease you while I still had the chance, knowing that later on you’d be revelling in wiggling your ass around in front of me? Being starkers in front of an entire camera crew is a somewhat different matter, however.
You on the other hand seem more than up for the challenge, although after a while of standing there gingerly covering yourself I think the idea is somewhat beginning to lose its appeal. You, Dan and Doug are already naked, but I can’t resist dragging out the moment a bit before I remove my own boxers, larking around and hoping to drive you wild, flashing my ass and touching myself through my boxers, knowing you can hardly take your eyes off me.
You get the last laugh, however, managing to position yourself throughout the performance so that it isn’t your front or your behind that is directly in my sight line, but somewhere in between - a view straight down the middle, between you and the guitar, so I can see everything that’s going on down there clear as day.
With one last ass wiggle you finish the performance, and I’m left sat with a growing erection and only a drum kit to hide behind.
***
It is no more than a week later when you come to me, telling me that an ex-girlfriend has got back in touch with you and wants to meet up. You are wary, and rightly so, as we all are now of anyone who contacts us again out of the blue, but you still want to go. I know this even before you tell me. She meant a lot to you and something about her makes you need to see her this one last time. You need closure, you say, but I can’t help wondering if maybe it’s something more than that.
I do not object, however. How can I? You need this, and I cannot tell you no on account of my own insecurities. You’ve told me what’s happening, after all, showing that you trust me, and in us, enough to believe you can be this open, so how can I do anything but the same?
I reassure you with a smile, and urge you to go, secretly hoping that she’s put on several hundred pounds, or is pregnant or something, since you last met, but when I see the relief in your eyes, glad as you are that I haven’t flown of the handle about this, I can’t say anything.
On the day you kiss me and promise nothing will happen, that you just need to do this, and I gently push you out the door, telling myself this is the perfect chance for my faith in you, and in us to shine through, that nothing will break my belief in you.
Still, I cannot settle to anything all day, and my mind is not away from what you might be doing for more than a few minutes as a time.
But of course, nothing does happen. You would never do that to me, and we both know it, but when you return we now have the proof of it, and it makes us even stronger.
***
When it comes to the moment that we finally decide now is the time to come out I know it is the right thing to do, regardless of what anyone else advises us.
We are what we are, and it feels as though it has got to the stage where, if any fans disagree... well, we’re not sure if we’d want them as fans anyway.
Some are shocked, some gutted, some saying that they knew it all along, but none it seems can deny it now that it’s right in front their eyes; the way we look at each other is real.
A fire burns inside that cannot be put out, not by negativity or condemnation, not insults or outrage, and that, I believe, makes this real.
Other people may not see it, but what they see is not us. It is but the tiniest snapshot of what we are - the beautiful but fragile snow covered tip that tops a far larger more powerful mountain.
We are the mountain, beautiful and strong, and we’ll be that way forever.
Fandom: McFly
Pairing: FletcherJudd, Fludd
Part: 1/1
Rating: Nc-17/18, right from the off
Word Count: 2,089
Summary: I think the title pretty much sums this one up
You gasp loudly, biting down on your bottom lip, your eyes scrunching up as I push into you, your muscles pushing back against me, not wanting to let me in, but you don’t tell me to stop. Instead, you kiss me back when I lean down and press my lips against yours reassuringly, your arms snaking their way around my neck, pulling me tighter against you, deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into my mouth.
I resist the urge to start thrusting into you right away, waiting until you’re comfortable with the feel of me inside you and tell me start - but you feel so amazing, your walls clutching my erection tightly, that it’s hard. Even then I try my best to start out slowly, giving you as much chance to loosen up as possible, reminding myself of the position of your prostate and adjusting myself accordingly so I can hit it with almost every trust, loving how you gasp my name into my mouth whenever I do so.
I can’t help but quickly speed up, however, my cock slipping easily in and out of your stretch hole, sweat sliding between us and your own erection rubbing again my stomach.
The heat of our bodies’ melds into one until it becomes hard to tell where I end and you begin, your hips bucking upwards against mine, forcing me as far into you as possible. It’s not long before you come, all over both our chests, and hearing you moan out in ecstasy is all it takes to push me over the edge as well. I collapse on top of you, the sweat and spunk covering both chests sticking together and mixing into a gluey mess.
I know that before long you’ll have to get up and go to wash it off - but for now you’re content to feel my weight on top of you as I dot feather kisses along your jaw, my hands running through your sweaty hair.
I think that maybe when you move, insisting you need to shower, I can join you and we could possibly have a little fun, then that little bit of fun could possibly develop into more sex. I take a moment to imagine it - falling out of the shower and back into your bedroom to begin again - a wild, never ending cycle. Sex, shower, sex shower…
Seems like a pretty good idea to me.
You surprise me however, but not moving immediately, instead you tilt you head to catch one of my kisses with your lips, and instantly I feel your tongue touching mine.
This, I decide, is perfection. Just you and me, here - I can’t think of anything better. I never can when I’m with you.
Yet this little piece of perfection in only a tiny piece of everything we are.
***
The next morning it’s up early for a television interview - both of us reluctant to move from the warmth and comfort of the others embrace, even though generally we’re early risers.
Well, compared to Danny and Dougie, anyway.
An few hours later under the hot lights, surrounded on three sides by screaming, practically hysterical, kids half our age, and sat with an interviewer who doesn’t act much older, answering questions that are the same old same old and, as usual, you’re taking control of most of the answers, even if they’re not aimed at you. Not that you really have much choice, knowing I’ll probably be completely sarcastic or patronising (not that anyone around here has enough of a brain to notice), Danny’ll just say something stupid and it’s never safe to let Dougie speak.
I find this is a situation that suits me fine, however, as it leaves me free to watch you out of the corner of my eye, aware of the way you gesture as you talk, hearing how sincere you sound - more so than the rest of us can ever manage. At times like this I can’t help but admire you; you take these stupid TV shows and their stupid antics in your stride so well, answering questions like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard them, while I can usually be nothing but sarcastic, wishing for once that they’d ask us something new, or at least a little original. This you is so different from my you, but still so amazing, that I can’t help but be in awe.
Then the interviewer says something, something they surely mean as a joke, or at least completely innocently, but I know that we have all taken entirely the wrong way, and you flash me a look, a look that says ‘we are so doing that the second we get out of here,’ and I grin.
The interviewer continues, completely oblivious, but I know Danny and Dougie caught the moment that just passed between us, and doubtless the camera did too, but that’s just another part of what we are - secret looks and hidden meanings, little moments that are ours and ours alone - things that remind us of who we really are underneath the cloak of all this pretence that we must wear while we’re under the media spotlight.
***
A week later, when I get a phone call full of bad news from my parents, you’re there with me, curled up on the sofa. You know instantly that something’s wrong, even though you can only hear one end of the conversation, you know me well enough to be able to tell from my body language, the way my body stiffens, and the tone of my voice changes, and when I hang up you’re there ready to hold me, no questions asked, leaving it up to me to decide if I’m comfortable to relate to you what I’ve just been told, knowing that if I’m going to tell anyone it’ll be you.
As I tell you that my brother has had a serious car accident and is currently lying unconscious in a hospital my voice breaks, and I feel in that moment that I am at my most vulnerable; I have let you in further than any one else has ever managed to get, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
In the past I would’ve wanted to retreat to my room and the security of my own company to come to terms with this - but now I discover it is far preferable to remain here with you, curled up against the comfort of your chest like a child, your arms around me as you kiss the top of my head and reassure me that we’ll go up and see him first thing in the morning.
I find that the tears of worry fall easily, but I’m not embarrassed to cry in your presence, as this occasional need for comfort is just another part of what we are, and there is not a single part of me I’m not prepared to show you. I think it shows and, for the first time in my life, I fell completely free.
***
I think I could really kill you when you tell me what you’ve planned as part of our next video - a performance naked - but you just grin at me teasingly, your eyes flashing playfully as I chase you through the house before we end up as a pile of tangled limbs on the living room floor.
You think it’s a fantastic idea of course - not only are you eager to show off since you’ve slimmed down, but you also delight in knowing how easily you’ll be able to tease me in such a situation - you’ve always been able to control your desires more than me, and knowing that I’ll be crazy with pent up sexual frustration by the end of it is an idea you find highly entertaining.
On the day, the set is cramped, being that it is supposed to be a storage cupboard, and the heat radiating from the four of us, not to mention all the crew members jammed in there, is making the temperature fairly uncomfortable.
I’m slightly nervous, I’ll admit, of stripping down completely - even though I’ve been running round the set in just my boxers already. Well, who can blame me for being desperate to tease you while I still had the chance, knowing that later on you’d be revelling in wiggling your ass around in front of me? Being starkers in front of an entire camera crew is a somewhat different matter, however.
You on the other hand seem more than up for the challenge, although after a while of standing there gingerly covering yourself I think the idea is somewhat beginning to lose its appeal. You, Dan and Doug are already naked, but I can’t resist dragging out the moment a bit before I remove my own boxers, larking around and hoping to drive you wild, flashing my ass and touching myself through my boxers, knowing you can hardly take your eyes off me.
You get the last laugh, however, managing to position yourself throughout the performance so that it isn’t your front or your behind that is directly in my sight line, but somewhere in between - a view straight down the middle, between you and the guitar, so I can see everything that’s going on down there clear as day.
With one last ass wiggle you finish the performance, and I’m left sat with a growing erection and only a drum kit to hide behind.
***
It is no more than a week later when you come to me, telling me that an ex-girlfriend has got back in touch with you and wants to meet up. You are wary, and rightly so, as we all are now of anyone who contacts us again out of the blue, but you still want to go. I know this even before you tell me. She meant a lot to you and something about her makes you need to see her this one last time. You need closure, you say, but I can’t help wondering if maybe it’s something more than that.
I do not object, however. How can I? You need this, and I cannot tell you no on account of my own insecurities. You’ve told me what’s happening, after all, showing that you trust me, and in us, enough to believe you can be this open, so how can I do anything but the same?
I reassure you with a smile, and urge you to go, secretly hoping that she’s put on several hundred pounds, or is pregnant or something, since you last met, but when I see the relief in your eyes, glad as you are that I haven’t flown of the handle about this, I can’t say anything.
On the day you kiss me and promise nothing will happen, that you just need to do this, and I gently push you out the door, telling myself this is the perfect chance for my faith in you, and in us to shine through, that nothing will break my belief in you.
Still, I cannot settle to anything all day, and my mind is not away from what you might be doing for more than a few minutes as a time.
But of course, nothing does happen. You would never do that to me, and we both know it, but when you return we now have the proof of it, and it makes us even stronger.
***
When it comes to the moment that we finally decide now is the time to come out I know it is the right thing to do, regardless of what anyone else advises us.
We are what we are, and it feels as though it has got to the stage where, if any fans disagree... well, we’re not sure if we’d want them as fans anyway.
Some are shocked, some gutted, some saying that they knew it all along, but none it seems can deny it now that it’s right in front their eyes; the way we look at each other is real.
A fire burns inside that cannot be put out, not by negativity or condemnation, not insults or outrage, and that, I believe, makes this real.
Other people may not see it, but what they see is not us. It is but the tiniest snapshot of what we are - the beautiful but fragile snow covered tip that tops a far larger more powerful mountain.
We are the mountain, beautiful and strong, and we’ll be that way forever.