Dan/Martin, ficlet
Title: Rhythmos
Pairing: Daniel Agger/Martin Škrtel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: 100% fiction
A/N: For Sarah, as always ♥
Daniel’s leaning back against the backrest with his shirt unbuttoned, and Martin sees the shots of light playing over the rims of the glass the Dane’s holding.
He looks up again and fixes his gaze on Daniel’s face, but the man’s eyes dart back to his hands he’s resting on wide spread knees, relaxed, and Martin looks at his hands, too, he knows they’re warm and strong, he knows the taste of each joint, and how sinfully good it feels to have those fingers inside him, and he still can’t forget the first time he had these digits touching his insides: first it was odd, but he waited and lied still on his side, because he liked having Daniel’s dry lips leaving burns on his shoulder-blades, and he knew that later he’d feel good, so illegally good that damn, it shouldn’t be this way. So he waited until the finger curled and seconds later he had to breathe out and squeeze his eyes shut, - the pleasure was sharp like a razor blade which left its trails on the Dane’s left cheek earlier this morning.
Martin steps closer, his mouth twitches involuntary, and it feels like his tongue has swelled; he’s so terribly hot after rum, his head is cloudy and insides of his thighs are aching; he’d strip now and rub himself, leave feather-like imprints of fingertips just below his sac.
The Dane looks dangerous; it’s not a fair game they’re playing this time. Anticipation makes Martin’s nipples harden even before he pulls off his shirt, and he runs his palm over the sensitive buds, something he wouldn’t do, but Daniel’s eyes are fixed on that spot underneath Martin’s navy blue jeans; they’re crawling inside his clothes, glued to his hard dick, and for the first time Martin likes this shameless staring. He fills in the whole room, his hard breathing and the scent of his sweat, his everything; Daniel’s eyes explore every inch of his skin, follow the curvy lines of his muscles and slide up the hard edges of his face, this perfect symmetry his fingers are used to trace.
Martin leaves his clothes on the floor, doing it quickly despite the dizziness, and doesn’t meet Daniel’s eyes before he sits down beside him, offering his freed proudly strained hard-on for a touch.
Daniel thinks he can almost smell the musky scent of Martin’s pre-cum gathered at the slit of his cock. He smiles at the man’s disheveled look and reaches out to stroke his flushed cheek, before drawing a perfect line along the curve of his jaw and nudging the man to lean closer.
Daniel parts Martin’s full lips with his hot tongue roughly, penetrating this luscious wet mouth and kisses him hard, so hard that he hears a small whimper dying somewhere deep in his throat, and Martin’s silky tongue plays along his, sliding slowly. He moans, and Daniel kisses him harder, because it’s not everyday he hears the man moaning; he’s usually the quiet one and the Dane can’t help but stroke the nape of Martin’s neck affectionately; it’s a fusion of feelings that overwhelms them both, Martin in his Bacardi-smelling damp heat and Daniel, intoxicated by all this skin and hooded eyes.
Boy, the way he looks at him when Daniel finally draws back… That glowing skin and darkened eyes, he doesn’t even try to hide juicy horniness that turns Daniel’s blood into liquid fire. Just tugs at Daniel’s shirt and dips his head to smother his chest with lazy awkward kisses. He leaves a wet path going up Daniel’s throat and whispers a ragged ‘Fuck me’ before hiding his face almost shyly in the crook of the Dane’s neck.
He unzips Daniel’s jeans and throws a quick look at the man, as if he needs reassurance, before sucking on the head lightly. He holds the base of Daniel’s cock in his warm palm and fondles it gently, then takes him whole, making the Dane’s hands on his neck tighten and his hips jerk upwards, driving his cock deeper into the heat of Martin’s throat.
Daniel sighs and leans down to kiss the back of Martin’s head; it drives him wild when the man hums around his hard-on and tugs at his own cock with his other hand, a few strokes and Daniel sees the hard contours of Martin’s shoulders tensing, and his nipples are dark pink on creamy skin.
‘Stop,’ he groans when Martin’s tongue and fervent sucking gets him close to the edge, and kisses him again before sneaking his arm around Martin’s waist and pulling him closer, nudging him to straddle his lap. ‘Want you so bad,’ he mumbles against Martin’s flushed chest and slides his palm lower, down Martin’s sleek lower back.
Martin breathes fast and presses his cock against Daniel’s chest while the Dane’s fingering him; he rubs his length against him, and Daniel bows his head to capture the wet cock. The double pleasure makes Martin’s head spin and he impales himself harder on Daniel’s fingers, smiling and parting his lips again when Daniel pulls out and presses the engorged head of his cock against him.
It’s messy and quick, and the rhythm is broken, but it’s the weight of Martin’s sweat slick body on him when they’re both spent that seems so intense to Dan that he can’t do anything but run his hands up and down Martin’s sides, whispering husky words of no great importance.
Pairing: Daniel Agger/Martin Škrtel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: 100% fiction
A/N: For Sarah, as always ♥
Daniel’s leaning back against the backrest with his shirt unbuttoned, and Martin sees the shots of light playing over the rims of the glass the Dane’s holding.
He looks up again and fixes his gaze on Daniel’s face, but the man’s eyes dart back to his hands he’s resting on wide spread knees, relaxed, and Martin looks at his hands, too, he knows they’re warm and strong, he knows the taste of each joint, and how sinfully good it feels to have those fingers inside him, and he still can’t forget the first time he had these digits touching his insides: first it was odd, but he waited and lied still on his side, because he liked having Daniel’s dry lips leaving burns on his shoulder-blades, and he knew that later he’d feel good, so illegally good that damn, it shouldn’t be this way. So he waited until the finger curled and seconds later he had to breathe out and squeeze his eyes shut, - the pleasure was sharp like a razor blade which left its trails on the Dane’s left cheek earlier this morning.
Martin steps closer, his mouth twitches involuntary, and it feels like his tongue has swelled; he’s so terribly hot after rum, his head is cloudy and insides of his thighs are aching; he’d strip now and rub himself, leave feather-like imprints of fingertips just below his sac.
The Dane looks dangerous; it’s not a fair game they’re playing this time. Anticipation makes Martin’s nipples harden even before he pulls off his shirt, and he runs his palm over the sensitive buds, something he wouldn’t do, but Daniel’s eyes are fixed on that spot underneath Martin’s navy blue jeans; they’re crawling inside his clothes, glued to his hard dick, and for the first time Martin likes this shameless staring. He fills in the whole room, his hard breathing and the scent of his sweat, his everything; Daniel’s eyes explore every inch of his skin, follow the curvy lines of his muscles and slide up the hard edges of his face, this perfect symmetry his fingers are used to trace.
Martin leaves his clothes on the floor, doing it quickly despite the dizziness, and doesn’t meet Daniel’s eyes before he sits down beside him, offering his freed proudly strained hard-on for a touch.
Daniel thinks he can almost smell the musky scent of Martin’s pre-cum gathered at the slit of his cock. He smiles at the man’s disheveled look and reaches out to stroke his flushed cheek, before drawing a perfect line along the curve of his jaw and nudging the man to lean closer.
Daniel parts Martin’s full lips with his hot tongue roughly, penetrating this luscious wet mouth and kisses him hard, so hard that he hears a small whimper dying somewhere deep in his throat, and Martin’s silky tongue plays along his, sliding slowly. He moans, and Daniel kisses him harder, because it’s not everyday he hears the man moaning; he’s usually the quiet one and the Dane can’t help but stroke the nape of Martin’s neck affectionately; it’s a fusion of feelings that overwhelms them both, Martin in his Bacardi-smelling damp heat and Daniel, intoxicated by all this skin and hooded eyes.
Boy, the way he looks at him when Daniel finally draws back… That glowing skin and darkened eyes, he doesn’t even try to hide juicy horniness that turns Daniel’s blood into liquid fire. Just tugs at Daniel’s shirt and dips his head to smother his chest with lazy awkward kisses. He leaves a wet path going up Daniel’s throat and whispers a ragged ‘Fuck me’ before hiding his face almost shyly in the crook of the Dane’s neck.
He unzips Daniel’s jeans and throws a quick look at the man, as if he needs reassurance, before sucking on the head lightly. He holds the base of Daniel’s cock in his warm palm and fondles it gently, then takes him whole, making the Dane’s hands on his neck tighten and his hips jerk upwards, driving his cock deeper into the heat of Martin’s throat.
Daniel sighs and leans down to kiss the back of Martin’s head; it drives him wild when the man hums around his hard-on and tugs at his own cock with his other hand, a few strokes and Daniel sees the hard contours of Martin’s shoulders tensing, and his nipples are dark pink on creamy skin.
‘Stop,’ he groans when Martin’s tongue and fervent sucking gets him close to the edge, and kisses him again before sneaking his arm around Martin’s waist and pulling him closer, nudging him to straddle his lap. ‘Want you so bad,’ he mumbles against Martin’s flushed chest and slides his palm lower, down Martin’s sleek lower back.
Martin breathes fast and presses his cock against Daniel’s chest while the Dane’s fingering him; he rubs his length against him, and Daniel bows his head to capture the wet cock. The double pleasure makes Martin’s head spin and he impales himself harder on Daniel’s fingers, smiling and parting his lips again when Daniel pulls out and presses the engorged head of his cock against him.
It’s messy and quick, and the rhythm is broken, but it’s the weight of Martin’s sweat slick body on him when they’re both spent that seems so intense to Dan that he can’t do anything but run his hands up and down Martin’s sides, whispering husky words of no great importance.